


Trying To Be Better

by Skye_Light



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, Christmas, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Head Boy Draco Malfoy, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Mention of torture, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve, Pining, idiots to lovers, touch-starved hermione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28048908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skye_Light/pseuds/Skye_Light
Summary: After the war has ended, Hermione is desperate to go back to who she was, before her life got turned upside down, by returning to school without Ron and Hary. But accepting the Head Girl position puts her in even closer proximity to Draco Malfoy than she had already gotten herself in. With Christmas just around the corner, she is confronted with more than she was expecting to deal with in her final year at Hogwarts. But comfort is to come from one of the most unsuspecting sources.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 134





	1. Sharing War Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter prompt:  
>  \- I'm going to go. Unless you need anything?  
>  \- I'm desperately trying to think of something.

Hermione knew something like this was going to happen. She called it before it was even suggested. She didn’t necessarily regret her decision to return to Hogwarts to finish her last year, just like she didn’t necessarily regret her decision to accept the Head Girl position. In fact, she didn’t necessarily regret anything. Which she realised was not a good thing. Because she didn’t necessarily regret that essay which she didn’t proofread and wrote in two hours, just like she didn’t regret the less than perfect grade she got on it. She just couldn’t care much about anything. She never doubted she would return to finish school – she was even prepared to beg McGonagall to let her come back before she got her letter, offering her to come back. She loved school, and she loved learning, and she loved knowing things. Or she used to. But now that it was almost Christmas, she realised she didn’t feel much at all. She was smart enough to know it was because she was drafted for war when she was a child, and fought bravely, and was a war hero, but none of that helped her get through Charms class – sitting in a classroom, waving her wand to preform frivolous spells. And Defence Against the Dark Arts was a joke to her now. If Harry and Ron had come back with her, maybe she’d feel better, but they had decided to jump on the fast track to becoming Aurors. Then again, maybe it would have been worse if they were here. It would have felt too much like before the war. Yes, Hermione decided, this is better.

Another thing she predicted before it was even a possibility was that everyone would be dumbfounded by this new Hermione. And Trelawney had said she didn’t have a talent for divination, the joke’s on her. The moment she stepped on that platform with her Head Girl badge she knew she was not the same. And she was a little disappointed in herself if she was being honest. But that disappointment was quickly overshadowed by amusement when she walked into the still empty Heads’ compartment and got out her book. She didn’t intend to make rounds. What was the worst that could happen? Spilt pumpkin juice? Someone sneaking in alcohol and getting drunk? It’s not like they were going to be attacked by a dark wizard or tortured by an undercover Death Eater. It’s not like anyone was going to die is she didn’t make her rounds. She rationalised it to herself, by recalling this year’s Prefects – some of them were in Slytherin and still instilled fear in their classmates. They’d be fine without her. She might even undermine their authority, and she wouldn’t want to do that.

Then there was the question of her fellow Head Boy – no other than Draco Malfoy. She had testified in his favour, alongside Harry and several others, and he was released on parole. All he had to do to earn his freedom was to finish school with a clean record and good grades. Hermione remembered his trial most vividly, which is not saying much, since the whole summer was a big blur of long hallways, cramped rooms, and yelling. So much yelling. And she had been sufficiently pissed off to yell out that she would vouch for him. His trial had lasted two days. Two days of him in chains, in a cage, in front of the whole Wizengamot and many members of the press and the public. Two days of rehashing how he was coerced and blackmailed, how the life of his parents and his own were used as a stick to threaten him with, and the Chief Warlock had the audacity to say that his mother’s freedom depended on him doing exceptionally well in his parole. Hermione was sure her head had exploded in a loud sound. Turned out it had been her suddenly standing up and loudly yelling in the Chief Warlock’s face that this was bullshit and if the Wizengamot were going to use the same methods to beat people into submission Voldemort had they might as well fling themselves off the roof of the Ministry. She’d locked eyes with Draco and despite all that they’d put him through he’d looked amused with her outburst. Amusement was quickly replaced with gratitude when she offered to be his bond and to guarantee for him. The offer was reluctantly accepted. The _Prophet_ had a field day with that – Skeeter spent weeks writing about the star-crossed lovers and an earlier version of Hermione would have regrated her decision. This Hermione couldn’t really bring herself to care.

There was one more thing she knew was a bad idea, though that one hit her a little later than the rest. During the last official dinner of the school semester before Christmas break, McGonagall had commended the 8th years on their inter-house loyalty. The fact that they were less of them in total than there were 1st years in Hufflepuff, along with the fact that they had fought a literal war and spent the whole summer together in the halls of the Ministry and the courts of the Wizengamot, were omitted from the heart-warming speech. But when Blaise had offered that they sneak out and get drunk on the first official night of the holidays, everyone agreed. That is, everyone who wasn’t taking the train back. She herself had to say longer than the others as a Head Girl, but Harry and Ron had promised they’d bring her to the Burrow for Christmas until after New Years and then take her back before the semester started. It was only after she walked in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom after curfew and saw the group of, mostly, Slytherins there that she realised things weren’t going to end well. Maybe Trelawney was on to something after all.

“Ganger!” she snapped out of her daze and stared at Blaise, who had called her name. She was sitting on one of the sinks, feet dangling above the ground. “Geez, welcome back to the land of the living. What the hell happened to you?” He was sitting on the floor, back to the wall, one arm propped on his bent knee. His other leg was sprawled forward, gently tapping an empty bottle of firewhisky with the toe of his shoe.

“Got lost in thought.” She said and looked around. Pansy had taken to drunkenly pacing around like she was walking a tightrope or the plank. Luna was sitting next to Blaise and was very carefully peeling the labels off the empty bottles so she could reuse them without drawing attention. Neville and Seamus had long since gone to bed. “What did I miss?”

“We’re sharing war memories.” Draco’s voice came from the other side of the room, where she couldn’t see him. “Or we were going to before Blaise realised you had that 1000-yard-stare.” This was the part she had predicted too late. They were all drunk enough to _think_ they were good to share, but none of them was. She should say goodnight. Instead, she nodded and fished another bottle out of the ice-filled sink that was just within arm’s reach.

“This should be fun.” She said opening the beer bottle by slamming the cap on the edge of the sink. A little foam spilt off the top of the bottle and Hermione carefully took a sip. “Should I start, or do we have other volunteers?” Blaise gestured for her to begin.

“The topic is what we missed most in the months before the Battle. And no cheap answers like safety, home, and the like.”

“Alright. I missed running water.” She said and leaned back. “I lived in a tent with two boys for months, and let me tell you, once winter hit and the water in the streams froze, I was tempted to just give up, run to the nearest village and take a long shower, come what may.” She looked at Blaise who had bitten his lip so he wouldn’t laugh, but Pansy and Luna were giving her sympathetic looks. “Also, I missed worrying about what I wore. I actually missed looking in the mirror for hours on end only thinking about if I looked presentable enough in an outfit.” Blaise couldn’t contain his laugh anymore. It was a clear sound filled with more joy than Hermione had felt since Voldemort’s defeat.

“Really?” he asked, still laughing. Luna and Pansy joined him. “Do you revel in those things now?”

“I hope so – she spends hours hogging the bathroom. If not revelling in running water and free time to gaze at her reflection what is she doing in there?” said Draco curtly, but there was a clear note of amusement in his tone.

“Thinking of Weasley, maybe?” suggested Blaise. Hermione looked down at the bottle in her lap, fingering the rim, before taking a big sip.

“Ooh, it’s not Weasley she’s thinking about, is it?” asked Pansy. “Isn’t he your soulmate? That’s the rumour around.” Hermione didn’t answer, just chugged the rest of her beer, before opening another bottle.

“They broke up.” Said Luna calmly. Hermione wondered how much her friend had had to drink if anything. “A little before the start of the school year.”

“Damn. Tough year, Granger.” Said Blaise, rubbing the back of his neck. Hermione shrugged popping the bottle open. The metal cap clattered on the floor.

“It was a mutual decision. We didn’t really know what we were doing or if it was serious. So we decided to take this year for ourselves.”

“Take it from me,” said Pansy, walking behind the column at Hermione’s back and appearing from the other side with a bottle of champagne in her hand. “If either of you agrees to a break, you’re not getting back together.” She cast an accusatory glance at Draco, before switching Hemione’s beer with champagne. “You’re with Slytherins now. You’ll drink like one.” Hermione raised the bottle in toast and took a swig. The taste was more pleasant than the beer. She didn’t want to think about how expensive this bottle alone was.

“I’m sorry if I seemed a little preoccupied in my 6th year to date you, Pansy. I had a little more serious issues at hand.” Said Draco grimly. Hemione still couldn’t see him.

“Oh really?” Blaise raised a brow comically high. “We had no idea! How about you go next then, Malfoy.”

“Fine, Zabini.” Draco took a deep breath before speaking again. “I missed pizza. Hot pizza, and cheap wine that is just a notch better than vinegar. I could just leave the manor and sneak into muggle London. I’d hide in this pizzeria and just gorge myself. Then Voldemort moved into my house and Snape was breathing down my neck the whole time. And no more pizza for me.”

“Where did you have pizza?” asked Hermione, turning around in the direction of his voice.

“Franco Manca. In Soho.” Hermione sighed.

“That’s a good one. One of the best pizza’s in London.”

“Am I the only one surprised that the one and only heir of the Malfoy family name snuck off to _muggle London_ of all places?” asked Blaise.

“Yes, Blaise. I think you are.” Answered Luna, and gave him a warm smile, before returning her attention to the bottles. Blaise chuckled still looking at her.

“Alright, what about you, Luna Lovegood. What did you miss?” Luna thought about it for a moment.

“I missed the animals in the Dark forest. I used to sneak out and just spend time with them. But then they started hiding and then the forest became too dangerous.”

“You wondered the forest alone?” asked Hermione in disbelief.

“I wasn’t always alone. Sometimes I had friends with me. Sometimes just company.” Luna’s voice was clear as before the war. One of the things that had remained unchanged and brought Hermione comfort. Ron’s voice had changed and the way he spoke. Harry’s too.

“Who’d you go with?” asked Pansy, taking a seat in a sink next to Hermione.

“Anyone really. I went with Harry a few times in the earlier years.”

“That was dangerous and reckless.” Hermione knew how ridiculous it sounded, coming from her. She didn’t need to turn to see Pansy’s expression. “I know, I know. I’m not the one to speak. But it was still dangerous. Anyone could have been lurking there.”

“It was usually me, Granger.” Said Draco, “I knew she went there alone, so I followed her, thinking I was being sneaky. She knew all along but gracefully allowed me to maintain my dignity. If she had been in any real danger, I’d have warned her.” Luna smiled and nodded. Hermione was flabbergasted. She took a long sip from the champagne bottle. “Pansy, your turn.”

“I missed Potter’s shenanigans. He’d always get in some mess and it was hilarious to watch. It also distracted the teachers plenty.” Hermione couldn’t help but laugh.

“I missed that too,” said Blaise. “But I missed Snape being our potions teacher and Head of Slytherin House. Slughorn’s good, but he’s so fucking exhausting. I can’t listen to any more stories of famous students he’s had.”

“Maybe he’ll marry your mother, and, in a few years, no one will have to suffer through his stories.” Suggested Pansy with a leering smile.

“Can I ask,” began Hermione, suddenly feeling that Gryffindor courage in her veins. Or maybe it was the alcohol, she didn’t care either way, “What’s the deal with your mother? How does she do it? You’d think after the second husband word would have spread.” For a moment she thought she’d offended him and was already preparing an apology. Blaise’s brows were knit together, but there was an amused smile laying on his lips.

“She’s half Veela. At least half, anyway.” He said with a suggestive rise to his brows.

“So, you’re also part Veela.” Said Hermione, taking a careful look at him. She could see it; he had a certain air around him.

“I’m quite frankly offended that you never noticed my natural charm and beauty before now.” He said, placing a hand on his chest dramatically.

“In my defence, I have been a little preoccupied in the last several years to pay attention to your charm.” Said Hermione and winked at him, feeling pleasantly warm from the alcohol. “I promise to take more note of it from now on.” He gave her a wide smile and ran his tongue over his front teeth suggestively, before laughing.

They continued sharing stories for two more hours, neither of them moving from their seats. Hermione’s legs started to go numb from pressing into the edge of the sink for so long, so she carefully lowered herself down. She felt the pins and needles down to her toes. They’d gone into darker subjects. She’d told them about the Horcrux and how it almost ruined everything, how it turned Ron and Harry against each other.

“I used to come to this very bathroom to cry.” Said Draco, quietly. Hermione walked around the column of sinks in the middle of the room to look at him, for the first time in hours. “My only company was the ghost of a muggle-born witch. That solidified any doubt I may have had in my father’s ways. No one had been as kind to me as she was. Myrtle waited with me until I stopped crying, and then listened to me tell her everything and she never once turned on me.” He was leaning on both his arms over a sink. He looked up and locked eyes with Hermione in the mirror. “I almost died in this very bathroom and all I could think was, thank Merlin I won’t be alone in the afterlife. I’d have her as a friend.” He looked back down, “And then I didn’t die, because that would have been too fucking easy.” Pushing himself off the sink he turned around. “Potter stood right where you are now.” He pointed to the spot Hermione was standing at. She didn’t move, just held his gaze. “He said just the thought that he might have killed me almost broke him. I told him she shouldn’t have felt guilty, because I wanted to die. He cried.”

“But you don’t anymore, right?” asked Pansy in a small voice. There were tears in her eyes. Draco closed his and shook his head. Pansy took it as a no and rushed to hug him.

“I’m sorry, I’m not feeling well.” He said extracting himself from Pansy clumsily and heading for the door. “I’m going to go. I don’t want to dampen this crazy fun party.”

“Stay a little longer.” Said Luna. “We’ll all be going soon. You shouldn’t be alone after reliving such a horrible memory.”

“I can try and top his.” Said Hermione.

“Of course you can, Granger.” Said Draco but gave her a small smile. He rested an arm around Pansy’s shoulders and she started to toy with his rings.

“While I was being tortured, I also wished for death. All my mind could think of was how peaceful death will be. And I still feel it, the crucio, the knife digging in my skin, Dolohov’s curse. And when I do, I still think death will be an easier way out. At least then I wouldn’t have to watch my friends tip-toe around me, while they’re moving on with their lives.” Everyone was quiet. Hemione had expected Draco to look away from her like he had every time that day at the Manor came up, but he hadn’t. His grey eyes bore into hers and she had to look away in order to take a breath.

“Damn, Granger.” Said Blaise quietly. “I didn’t know…” Blaise’s expression was a weird mixture of fear and worry and if it had been on anyone else’s face Hermione would have suspected it was pity, but she knew better than to assume the Slytherins pitied her. If anything, they might understand her best. “That’s one hell of a way to end the night, I think.”

Blaise stood up elegantly and offered his hand to Luna. She accepted and gave him a warm smile, which he returned. They quietly collected all the evidence of their party and Blaise, Luna, and Pansy snuck out first. Hermione made another round to make sure they hadn’t left any evidence behind before letting Draco lead the way to the Heads’ dorms. They walked in silence and were about halfway there when Draco suddenly stopped and gripped the wall for support.

“Are you okay?” Asked him quietly Hermione. He tilted his head, eyes squeezed shut. “Are you in pain?”

“Not really.” He said. She understood. Residual effects of curses were various and nasty – it took years of regeneration before they subsided. “I think the alcohol might have flared it up.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Alcohol does repress your nervous systems and your brain’s response time. If you had any mental restrictions on the pain they might have loosened.” She said, quietly.

“Good to know, Granger.” He took a few deep breaths and steadied himself.

“Of course, you knew that. Your healers have informed you to drink responsibly.” Her healers had informed her that as well. It was more along the lines of don’t drink at all, but she wasn’t going to suffer through this year completely sober. She still had the bottle of champagne in her hand and she offered it to him. He shook his head and pushed himself off the wall.

“Alright, I’m good to go.” he took a few slow steps, before moving closer to the wall and using it to keep his balance. Silently, Hermione walked closer to him, half expecting him to push her away or make a snarky comment. But he didn’t. Instead, he let her swing one of his arms over her shoulders and walk him to the Heads’ dorms. “Sofa.” He said with a huff.

“You should go to bed. Get some rest.” She tried to manoeuvre them around the sitting area and towards his room, but he grabbed the back of the sofa.

“No!” he said harshly, and Hermione wavered. She gave in and let him sit down. He groaned and stretched, before looking at her. “I’m sorry. I just… I can’t go to bed like this. The nightmares…” he looked away, turning his head into the couch cushions. Hermione considered leaving but decided against it. The two of them had come to a weird equilibrium in their new lives at Hogwarts. He took up all of the couch, so she pulled one of the cushions from under his legs and sat on the floor. With a flick of her wand, she lit the small fireplace and soon felt the warmth of the fire on her skin. She closed her eyes against it and took a long swig of the champagne. “You don’t have to stay.”

“You’re not the only one with nightmares.” She said and turned to him. He was looking at her, and she offered him the bottle again. This time he took it.

“Can I ask you something?” his voice was distant. Hermione didn’t respond, just nodded turning back to the fire. “Why’d you do it? Take responsibility for me, after six years as Hogwarts, and the night at the Manor, and everything else I’ve done.”

“I was a child soldier, just like you. I didn’t have any more of a choice than you. And everyone asked me why I fought and how it felt to win. And they liked the rehearsed answers I gave – it was the right thing to do, I believed in Harry, winning was the best feeling ever.” She took the bottle back from him, “But that’s all a lie. By the time I realised what was going on, quitting would mean leaving Harry to die.” She chuckled quietly and passed the last of the champagne to him. “And I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t just abandon my friends. And the final battle was probably the worst day of my life. We won, but what I felt wasn’t relief. I actually didn’t feel anything. The fear subsided and I was left numb.” She clenched and unclenched her fists. “So when I heard what they used to make you join them, and then to have the winners, the good guys, use that same threat, set me off.”

“I half expected them to accuse me of bewitching you.” He muttered.

“You did look uncharacteristically amused.”

“Do you even remember what you said?” she shook her head.

“Not exactly. Just snippets of it. I think I remember the end of it.”

“By Merlin’s wrinkly bollocks you have to be shitting me.” He said and Hermione turned to him, eyes wide. He tried to give her a smug smile, but it ended up a lot more sincere than he intended. “You’re no better than Voldemort if you plan on using his love for his mother against him. If this is what you want to do, you might just march to the roof and jump off it.”

“Oh, no,” She buried her head in the crook of her elbow, resting it on the sofa. “No wonder Harry and Ron were so careful around me the following days.”

“It was very amusing to see you lose it. But then you offered to be my guarantor and they accepted, which was the real shocker. Thank you. I don’t think I ever actually said that to you.” She turned to look at him, he was gazing into the fire, the warm light creating a strange glimmer in his grey eyes and giving his platinum hair a golden hue.

“You did,” she said quietly. “On the train. Not in as many words, but the sentiment was understood.”

“Still, thank you.”

They sat in silence for a while longer and Hermione let her mind wander. His gaze was soft as he watched the fire dance over the logs and Hermione imagined that the warmth of the fire that was licking at her skin was his touch. She shook her head and knit her eyebrows together. She’d never thought of him in that way, not before the war, and not after. But the image was there. She tried to replace his place in her imagination with someone else. Anyone else – Ron, McLaggen from sixth year, Viktor Krum, even Harry. She managed to imagine it was Ron’s hand warming the side of her face, but when in her imagination she turned to look in his eyes she saw Draco’s grey ones. She felt him shift on the couch behind her and she opened her eyes, feeling her cheeks fire up.

“I’m better now. You should go to bed, you look tired.” He said quietly looking her over. She was sitting cross-legged on a cushion on the floor, her head resting on the sofa, in the crook of her elbow. She stretched slowly and stood up. Her head spun, the alcohol finally catching up to her. She nodded but didn’t move. He was sitting on the sofa, elbows on knees and she just stood there next to him for a second, fighting the urge to touch him. To make sure he was real or that he wouldn’t fall apart if she turned her back.

“Alright, I’m going to go. Unless you need anything?” she was his eyes dart to her and then across the room several times. “What?” she asked, trying to determine what he was looking for.

“I’m desperately trying to think of something.” He said, eyes darting back to her.

“Something you’ve forgotten?”

“Something to say that will not…” he shook his head and leaned back. “Never mind. Goodnight, Hermione.” He shut his eyes and she was him twirl his signet ring.

“Well, c’mon. Out with it.” She said, placing her hands on her hips like her mother used to do when she was getting annoyed. He took her stance and a crooked smile appeared on his face but quickly disappeared.

“I need you.” He whispered and Hermine’s breath hitched. She felt a tug in her stomach. Not fear, but not desire either. Something more existential than a primitive response. It was yearning, she realised. He must have taken her response as something else because he backed away with his hands raised. “No, not like _that_. I meant I need… something. A friend. A sympathetic company. Someone who understands, someone who doesn’t want to hex me all the time.”

“Who says I don’t want to hex you. I might just have exemplary self-control.” She said, but she sat down next to him, tucking her feet under her. They were quiet for some time and he wouldn’t look at her, the tops of his cheekbones were red. “I know what you mean. Well, not the hexing part, but the understanding part.”

“What do _you_ need?” His question caught her off guard.

“No one had asked me that since before the war.” She said and stared at her hands. “I don’t think I know what I need anymore.” She admitted and felt her eyes water.

“What’s the first thing that comes to mind.” He shrugged and Hermione felt one tear starting to roll down from her eye.

“Physical touch. Harry used to be my go-to when I felt touch starved because I knew he didn’t think anything of it, but now he’s gone and everyone else is scared I’ll break.” She saw him move towards her and she flinched involuntarily. He froze in place but didn’t back away.

“I’m not Potter, but I’m comfortable with physical touch,” Hermione remembered how he would casually touch his friends. Hand on the shoulder, leaning into them, tangling his hand in Pansy’s hair when she would huff annoyedly at her homework. She nodded and he slowly reached to wipe the fallen tear off her face with his thumb, before cupping the side of her neck and drawing her close, her breath hitched again, and she thought something inside her snapped. He purposefully twisted around so she wouldn’t think he was going in for a kiss, and he hugged her close to him, letting her burrow her face in his neck, wrapping her arms around him. It was as if the longer he touched her the warmer she felt, as if she was melting from the inside out, a wave of calm washed over her. After a while, he shifted. “Hermione? Your knees are digging in the side of my thigh.” 

“Sorry,” She released him and unfolded her legs; his arm was still around her. She leaned back, trapping it between her and the back of the couch, but he just pulled her closer to him, so her head was resting on his shoulder, his fingers drawing abstract figures over her arm. “You’re good at this.” She said before she could stop herself. He chuckled quietly.

“I have been told this before.” She rolled her eyes at his self-boasting but smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This was supposed to be a one-shot, based on a prompt, but I got carried away, so it's going to be a few chapters, each with a different prompt. Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


	2. Christmas Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:  
>  \- Is my pain amusing to you?  
>  \- No. But his will be.

When she woke up the next morning, Hermione was lying on top of her covers in her bed, the extra blanket from her chair was draped over her. She was still wearing last night’s clothes. As she ran through last night’s events in her head, she expected to feel embarrassed, but she found she actually felt better. About herself and about life in general. She grabbed a towel and a change of clothes, before heading to take a quick shower. By the time she was down at breakfast, almost all students still at Hogwarts were already there. She felt like everyone was staring at her but she was used to it, whether it was real or just in her head. She sat down between Pansy and Luna.

“Good morning.” She greeted everyone. Blaise looked up from his newspaper and smiled at her.

“Morning,” he greeted and closed his paper. “Now that all the cool people are here,” he looked around the table. Seamus and Neville were discussing something with Ginny, Draco was on Blaise’s other side. Blaise hit Seamus over the head with his paper. “I said, now that all the cool people are here, what do we do?”

“I just got an owl from my grandmother this morning. She wants me home as soon as possible. She said she has invited guests, which is weird since we don’t really know anyone that well.” Neville’s brows were furrowed, and Pansy clapped her hands together before extending one to Blaise. He rolled his eyes but dramatically dropped 5 Galleons in her outstretched palm.

“Poor Neville,” she said pocketing the money, “You’re being set up.”

“Set up for what?”

“Ideally, marriage.” Answered Pansy. Neville paled visibly.

“But I don’t… I… No…” he stammered for words. Hemione looked around the table, a little confused.

“Don’t panic. It’s happened to us all; I was actually surprised your Grandmother hadn’t done it already. My first set up was when I was 16.” Said Blaise. “Ironic, considering my mother’s habits.”

“Mine was when I was 15.” Said Pansy sourly and Draco laughed.

“Yeah, it was with me.” He said and twirled his empty cup on its edge. She beamed at him.

“We did date for a year afterwards.”

“Yeah, and we had been dating for a year when they set us up. I was under the impression your parents knew.” She fake laughed at his complaint and waved him off.

“Unimportant. Neville, it’s fine, just bring someone back with you.” He desperately looked at Ginny and she lifted her hands in defence.

“Don’t look at me, Neville, I’m taken.” She laughed.

“This is terrible.” He groaned.

“Who’s she setting you up with?” asked Blaise.

“I don’t know.”

“Alright, here’s what we’ll do.” Said Pansy, placing her palms on the table like she was at a board meeting. “Blaise and I will come with you. If you like the girl, we’ll pretend to be a couple. If you don’t Blaise can have her.” Neville was even paler than before.

“Don’t worry, they’ve done this before. The two make a very believable couple.” Said Draco, leaning in.

“But I don’t make a believable boyfriend.” Neville buried his face in his hands and groaned. Pansy stood and slid over an empty spot on the table, to get to Neville. Seamus moved out of the way, while Blaise, almost as if out of habit, extended a hand to help her off the table. With a spring in her step, she flung herself over Neville’s back. She pulled his hands down gently and placed a kiss on his cheek, so low it almost touched his lips. She then rubbed her nose in his hair behind his ear. Neville’s face was bright red.

“Don’t worry, I’m good enough at this for both of us.” She said straightening up behind him and pulling him back until his head rested on her upper stomach.

“I think your Grandmother might just buy it.” Said Ginny, doing her best not to laugh.

“As a Head Girl I have to tell you to turn down the level of PDA, so it works I guess.” Said Hermione and Luna chuckled.

“What do you say, darling?” cooed Pansy in his ear and even Seamus went red in the face and looked away from them. Neville nodded shakily.

“Okay.”

“My man!” exclaimed Blaise and stood up, pulling Pansy away from Neville. “Let the man breathe, Pans. He still hasn’t decided if he wants his arranged date.”

“I’m gorgeous and the best shag he’ll have in his life.” Neville choked on his water and Seamus started slapping his back to help him breathe. “Who might be better than me?”

“Either of the Greengrass sisters?” Said Draco and Pansy shot him a dirty look.

“Neither of them is better in the sack.” She said sternly.

“You have a point there,” said Blaise and kissed her on the cheek to appease her, “But let the man come to his own conclusions.” He pulled her away with a last wink to Neville. Hermione had bitten into her fist to stop herself from laughing but couldn’t help it when Neville turned wide-eyed to Draco.

“Have you slept with all the girls in Slytherin?” he asked shakily, and Draco’s laugh rang out.

“And some of the boys.” He said, sliding across the bench to take Blaise’s seat opposite Hermione. “Pansy and Blaise are reliable in the case of arranged dates, Longbottom. They’re the best in the business, so to speak. I’m yet to see them fail at seducing someone.” Neville swallowed hard and nodded. He stood up shakily and waved goodbye.

“Bye, Neville. Have a lovely Christmas.” Called Luna, without an ounce of mock in her voice and Neville blushed even harder. Hermione dropped her head on the table and laughed hard.

“Someone is having fun; Hermione are you okay?” asked Ginny. She hadn’t seen her laugh that hard in years. Hermione couldn’t respond verbally but raised a thumb in agreement. She felt Draco’s foot tap hers and she lifted her head to look at him. He looked amused by her outburst.

“You sure you’re alright, Granger? Did someone switch out your normal water with giggling water?” she took a deep breath and calmed a little.

“I’m fine, I just think it’s hilarious to imagine Neville’s face when Pansy starts climbing him in public.” Everyone laughed and even Luna chuckled. Seamus had recovered his normal colouring but still looked shocked.

“Is Pansy really that good?” he asked slowly.

“Let’s put it that way – Pansy is at the top of everyone’s list. Even the Greengrass’ sisters will agree.” Seamus nodded, his eyes distant. Hermione threw a piece of bread that hit him in the forehead.

“If you’re going to imagine it go to your dorm.” She said and Ginny scrunched her face. Seamus blushed again and excused himself. Ginny giggled and Luna gave her a wide smile.

“So what are your Christmas plans?” asked Ginny looking at the few people remaining around her. “I’m leaving tonight, Bill and Fleur are coming to pick me up. Hermione, you could join if you want.” Hermione shook her head, looking down at the table and the toast she was buttering.

“I still have some Head Girl business left. I’ll join you in the Burrow on the 24th. Promise.” She gave Ginny a smile she hoped looked genuine. “What about you Luna?”

“Oh, I’ll be going home in two days.” She tilted her head to the side, looking out the window. “It is supposed to be a wonderful Christmas this year.”

“How can you tell?” asked Draco, is voice slightly mocking. “Does it have something to do with the fact that Voldemort is dead? Or is it the sprightly mistletoe harvest?”

“It’s the mistletoe harvest,” she said with a serious tone and Hermione looked at Draco with a coy smile. He was definitely caught off guard. “Although, I suppose the end of the war also has something to do with it.”

“What about you, Malfoy?” asked Hermione, leaning forward. She kicked him lightly in the shin and he shot her a challenging glance.

“Ginny!” Hermione turned and saw a group of 7th years waving Ginny over. She waved her hand in the international sign for ‘give me a minute’ and turned around.

“Go, Weaselette.” Said Draco. “My plans aren’t a surprise. You’ve probably guessed them already.” Ginny gave him a thin apologetic smile and with a squeeze to Luna’s shoulder, she was off, almost as fast on her feet as she was on a broom. Luna turned back to Draco; her eyes curious. Hermione found herself often marvelling at the way Luna perceived the world. She was sure her life wasn’t any easier than theirs after the war, but at least she _seemed_ to be the same person. Unlike almost everyone else she knew.

“So?” asked Hermione.

“I’ll go to visit my mother for Christmas. Have tea with her. Maybe dinner. Come back here.” He said stiffly.

“That’s your plan for the holidays?” asked Hermione shocked. He shrugged. Hermione took a breath to speak but he raised his hand and stopped her.

“Don’t. You’ve suggested enough things on my behalf without considering them.” He gave her a crooked smile.

“But why?” pushed Hermione.

“My mother is under house arrest. She will be for the next few years. But I can’t live in that house. Not while I have a viable alternative. It’s too…” he rolled his shoulders. “Cold. It didn’t use to be so cold.” Hermione just stared at him. She hadn’t thought of what it meant for him to have to go back to that place. Voldemort had lived there close to two years, his mother and he were both tortured there, along with countless others, Hermione included. And with his father imprisoned and his mother’s fragile state, it must be a nightmare to go back.

“Here, take this.” Luna slid a velvet bag towards Draco, breaking Hermione’s stare. “Put it under your pillow when you get home. It will help you feel at home.” He regarded the bag, before gingerly taking it in his palm and turning it around a few times.

“Thank you, Luna. What is it?”

“It’s just a charm with some herbs. Easy enough to make, I can show you after the holidays.” She said cheerily and smiled at him. He returned the smile and put the bag in his robes.

“That would be lovely.” Luna reached over the table to pat him on the hand before turning to Hermione.

“I’ll see you at dinner.” Luna gave her a fleeting hug, before bouncing out of the hall.

“She’s something else.” Draco cleared his throat.

“She really is.” Agreed Hermione, returning to her toast. He pretended to skim the paper for a while, but Hermione could feel his gaze on her. She pushed her empty plate away and it disappeared. She cradled her cup of tea in her hands and looked at Draco. “What is it?”

“I’m just trying to remember what Head Girl business you have left.” He said nonchalantly, turning the page of the paper.

“Your paper is upside down.” She said and his gaze sharply turned to the paper. It really was upside down. He closed it and slid it across the table. She finished her cup and stood up. “Not here. I feel like I’m being watched.”

“That’s because you are.” He said but stood up. She collected the paper and headed to their dorm. He quickly caught up with her and the pair walked in silence. On the way, Hermione stopped to warn a group of second years not to experiment with snow charms and they scurried away. She wondered if they’d been embarrassed to be scolded by her or if the reformed Death Eater lurking two feet behind her scared them off. She remembered the Draco from last night and scoffed at the thought of him scaring anyone. But then again, she’d found him a little intimidating just a few months ago. Once they entered their dorm she collapsed on the couch and loosened her tie.

“Tea?”

“Yes, please. A splash of milk.” He busied himself making the tea in the makeshift kitchenette and Hermione twisted to see how he made the tea. Using magic, of course.

“So?” he handed her a cup and lifted her feet from one end of the couch. She twisted to a seating position, one leg curled under her, the other swinging off the edge of the couch. She leaned sideways on the back of the couch and cradled her cup in her hands to warm them. “You finished all your homework for the break, all your official duties are done. Why won’t you go to Potter and Weasley? Maybe he missed you so much he’s decided to give this long-distance thing a try.” She huffed and his brows rose. “Oh, so it is about Weasley.”

“He wrote to me a while back. He actually thinks that this break is unnecessarily painful for both of us. He officially ended it.”

“In a letter? I knew he was a weasel, but it turns out he was a rat.”

“Hey! Don’t speak of him like that.” Scolded him Hermione.

“Look, I’m sorry, but he’s no man if he can’t muster the courage to break up with his girlfriend in person. Even I told Pansy that I’m breaking up with her while looking her in the eyes.” Hermione scoffed again.

“Were you naked and horizontal by any chance?” He gave her a crooked grin and winked.

“Maybe. My point is, he’s a complete tosser.” Hermione nodded silently. “There’s more isn’t there? There is always more.”

“Harry said he’s been hanging out with this girl.” Draco leaned his head back and laughed. “Is my pain amusing to you?” she asked half-joking.

“No. But his will be.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we’re friends, right?”

“That’s one definition.” She added dryly.

“In that case, I wouldn’t have continued to torture him by forcing him to think of witty retorts to my backhanded compliments if he were your boyfriend. But now not only is he fair game, but he’s also a prime target.”

“I don’t follow.” Admitted Hermione.

“Part of my parole is consulting the Aurors in catching Dark wizards after I graduate. I figured since Weasley is glued to Potter and we know each other, they might throw us together more often than not to avoid more problems. And now Weasley will never hear the end of it.” Her blank gaze confused him a little. “You really don’t remember much about my trial, do you?”

“No. I told you it was a blur. I remember bits and pieces, but that must have slipped through the cracks.” She took a sip of tea and looked at him. “Promise you won’t be too mean. Torture him a little, but don’t push it too far.” He gave her a sincere smile and took a sip of tea as if to hide it.

“I might even let Potter off the hook for a while. I’ll be subtle.”

“You’ve never been subtle in your life.” He shrugged dramatically.

“Maybe I’m so subtle about some things you don’t even realise them.” They drank in silence for a while.

“What’re you doing New Years?” she asked him suddenly.

“I’m not sure. I thought of going down to Hogsmeade. I hear The Three Broomsticks were having a party.”

“If you want, we can do something. Harry let the number of people attending the New Year party slip and it didn’t make sense, so I asked Ginny about it. She didn’t know anything specific, but I think he’s bringing her.”

“Oh,” his brows furrowed.

“I didn’t necessarily mean with them. If he’s bringing her, I don’t think I’ll enjoy myself either way.” He narrowed his eyes and placed his cup on the floor and hers followed.

“You’re going and if he’s bringing her, I’ll be there as well. Some nose rubbing might do him good.” He cupped her cheek, and she smiled at him. “If you think Pansy’s a good pretend-date, you should see me.”

Hermione felt herself tempted to kiss him. It took all her will power to keep looking him in the eyes and not to glance down at his lips. Just last night she had explicitly told him that she didn’t want people to assume the wrong thing by her desire for physical contact. And here she was. The next week was both the most relaxing and the most stressful of Hermione’s life since the war. She had no work, no obligations, most of the student body was gone, so were some of the professors, meaning she didn’t have anything to take her mind off her desire to kiss Draco. She spent most of her free time with him in one form or another – they ate most their meals together, went to Hogsmeade several times, busted a party in the Hufflepuff common room, and confiscated all their alcohol, but felt bad for the kids and didn’t disband the party itself. Most of the time they were quietly reading in their common space, casually touching each other. And with every day she just wished she could muster the strength to kiss him, but she always backed sown last moment. It was the night before Harry would meet her in Hogsmeade to take her to the Burrow. He had announced it would be just him last minute. Hermione suspected why that might be.

“You’ve been reading the same page for 10 minutes, Granger.” Draco wrapped his fingers around her ankle and tugged it lightly. She was lying sideways on the couch, her feet in his lap. She had realised he was either lying sprawled dramatically over the furniture or sitting straight with his legs elegantly crossed. Somehow, an equally dramatic posture.

“Have you been keeping track of my reading? Maybe it’s a really complicated book.” She retorted nudging him in the stomach with her heel.

“There’s a vampire on the cover. A muggle version at that. I might consider your brain cells have all committed suicide before I consider the book is complicated enough to stall you for so long.” His hand caressed her calf gently, silently urging her to speak.

“Ron’s bringing his new girlfriend to dinner on Christmas.” His fingers stilled.

“That’s a development.” He said guardedly.

“I’m not 100% sure, but Harry is coming alone tomorrow and wants to have a butterbeer with me before we leave.” She tossed the book towards the fire, missing the fireplace narrowly. Draco closed his own book, a lot more gently, and put it down, before pulling Hermione by her knees until she was all but sitting in his lap. Her breath hitched, but he didn’t seem to notice as he pulled her into a hug.

“It’s not much of a consolation, but if you wanted to come back before New Year’s I’d be here.” He said, stroking her hair. She clung to him and breathed in his scent deeply. He smelled of parchment and smoke from his Alchemical experiments, lavender from his shampoo, and mint from all the candy-canes he’d been eating this past week.

“You’ll still come to New Year’s, right?” she asked, still not pulling away.

“Of course.” She did pull away this time and looked him in the eyes. She reached and brushed a strand of his har which had fallen over his brow.

“Just to make it clear,” she said and placed her hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscle and bone there. “I don’t want to make him jealous to get him back. I want him to see that I can be happy without him, but that I’m mad at him for breaking up with me over a letter.”

“And are you? Happy?” he asked in a low voice. She gave him a tentative smile.

“I’m getting there.” he nodded and hugged her tight. “What are you reading, Mr Muggle-fiction-is-stupid?”

“ _A True Light of Alchemy_ ” he responded.

“So, muggle non-fiction.” He pinched her arm and she jumped. “Alright, alright. It’s a good one.”

“Of course, you’ve read it.” He rolled his eyes, picking his book up.

“I’ve skimmed it.” She responded and snuggled into him even more. “Read out loud, please.”

“You want me to read you an Alchemical text from the beginning of the 18th century?” she giggled and nodded. “You’re weird.” He said but opened his book and began reading out loud.


	3. Fragile Happiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:  
>  \- See something you like?  
>  \- Actually, yes.

Christmas wasn’t the worst. Ron did bring his new girl, and she was kind and laughed at his jokes, and helped Molly in the kitchen. Hermione found comfort in the fact that they were very different, not only in looks but in character. She was a physically active person and disliked spending time curled up on the sofa, drinking hot chocolate, which quickly became Hermione’s favourite pastime. The harder days were those between Christmas and New Year when time seemed to stand still. She wondered what Luna was up to, she hadn’t written yet, and neither had Neville, despite promising to keep her updated on his, quite frankly, ridiculous escapades. She also realised she missed Draco, not just the casual intimacy that had become their normal surprisingly quickly, or because she was beginning to regret all the opportunities she had to kiss him and didn’t. Regret was an emotion she welcomed back more happily than she expected. But she missed Draco mostly because he was a witty conversationalist, and he would sometimes rile her on just as a distraction when she would become too distracted by the past. By the 31st she was getting antsy, so it was a relief to receive an owl from someone. It was from Neville, and the letter had a bright pink kiss-mark in place of a wax seal.

“Receiving love letters, Hermione?” asked Ron, plopping himself on the couch next to her. She shook her head with a smile. 

“Receiving updates on a certain love story in development.” She brought him up to speed on Neville’s predicament.

“And you think this,” he pointed to the pink imprint of lips, “is Parkinson’s?”

“I doubt either Neville or Blaise will look good in this colour. I suppose it could be Neville’s grandmother’s but I’d rather not entertain that idea.” She opened the letter and skimmed it. “Apparently he and Pansy are actually dating now.” She said with a laugh. “That’s certainly a development. It’s better than a romance novel if you ask me.” With an impressive bit of wandless magic, Hermione summoned a piece of parchment and her ink and quill set. She wrote a quick response, folded it, and sealed it with a charm. Pouring some red and green wax on the back she let it dry, before sending it back. In the letter, she requested some information on Blaise’s current situation, since Neville’s letter didn’t mention him or the supposed arranged date, and told them about tonight’s party.

“So, you’ve grown close to the serpents.” Said Ron tentatively and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, they’re actually quite cool if you try and get to know them.” Ron hummed in response. “Please, be nice tonight. Draco is already feeling less than ideal about hanging in the company of so many Gryffindors.” Ron’s eyes snapped to her.

“Wait, you weren’t kidding?”

“Why would I be kidding?”

“I don’t know I just assumed… I mean it’s Malfoy! It’s one thing to defend him so he doesn’t go to Azkaban, but this seems a little too much.” Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ron and tilted her head.

“I wasn’t aware I had to run every relationship I have through you, Ronald.” Ron blushed and quickly muttered an apology. He barely spoke to her for the rest of the day. “Plus, you’re bringing Amanda and Harry and Ginny are glued to the hip anyway. I don’t want to be the only one there without… a date.” She faltered a little, before calling Draco her date. Ron was silent for a while and Hermione felt bad for snapping at him. Before she could say anything, Ginny appeared on the bottom of the stairs.

“Hermione, help me get ready, please.” She leaned over the parapet, her wet hair falling forward. Hermione nodded and stood to join her friend.

“Hermione,” called Ron from the couch, “I’m sorry. If you trust him, then I do, too. It’s just habit at this point, I suppose.” He gave her a genuine smile and she smiled back at him, before following Ginny up the stairs.

They were at Diagon Alley walking towards the bar they agreed to celebrate New Year’s at. The original plan had been the Leaky Cauldron, but Ginny had insisted on this new and hip place. At least Hermione was sure that Draco wouldn’t look too formal. She knew better than to hope he’d come dressed in anything that could pass as understated. Ron and Amanda were walking hand in hand at the front of the group, Harry and Ginny were trying to walk separately so Hermione wouldn’t feel left out, but they failed miserably. It was almost too adorable, watching them try and keep their hands off each other. Hermione was just starting to worry Draco was not going to show up when she felt a familiar arm sneak around her shoulders. She smelled parchment and lavender, and expensive cologne.

“What did you do to your hair?” He asked wrapping her sleek ponytail around his fist.

“Hello to you too. I’m very well, thank you for asking, and how are you?” she asked him sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and gave her a crooked smile. They were falling a little behind her friends. “I straightened it with a charm.”

“I have eyes. My question was more in the vein of what was the purpose of changing up your hairstyle.”

“It looks more polished. Doesn’t it look good?”

“It looks great.” He whispered in her ear. She hadn’t realised just how much she really missed him casually flirting with her until now. “Very Slytherin.” He looked up and shot Ginny a wink.

“Oh, Draco’s here.” She feigned surprise. She’d noticed him as soon as he arrived but didn’t say anything. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Ginny, Potter.” His eyes landed on Ron and Amanda, “Ronald. And who is this beautiful creature on your arm?” his tone was so pretentiously sweet that Hermione couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes so far back she almost saw the inside of her skull.

“I’m Amanda,” she said cheerily and waved at Draco. He seemed taken aback at her cheery nature. “Do you go to school with Ginny and Hermione?”

“Yes, he goes to Hogwarts. He was one of those who returned to finish their education.” Said Harry.

“Oh, that must be so awesome. I’m from America, but my parents didn’t want me to go to Ilvermony. Thought it was too dangerous, what with You-know-who and his followers lurking everywhere, so they home-schooled me.” She shuddered at the thought and Hermione saw Draco’s wide smile. She pinched him hard and he yelped, startled.

“Don’t,” she hissed at him, but couldn’t help but smile.

“But someone’s got to tell her.” Said Draco, starting to unbutton the cufflinks of his left sleeve. “Let it be me.” He pleaded in a hushed voice.

“Is everything okay?” asked Amanda. Hermione Gripped Draco’s left forearm in an attempt to stop him from lifting his sleeve and revealing the Dark mark there. It had faded slightly, and it should fade more with time, but it would never disappear. Just like his other scars, and hers, and everyone else’s. Everyone but Amanda’s.

“Everything’s great. Awesome.” Said Hermione with a smile. Ginny, who had noticed Draco’s attempt, was trying to disguise her snickering as a coughing fit. When Amanda turned back around, Hermione squeezed even tighter. “Don’t you dare! She’s never actually seen a Dark wizard in her life. She’s never fought.”

“She is too cheery to handle.” Grumbled Draco, but fixed his sleeve, pinning it in place. “I just want to…” Hermione pinched him again.

“Let her be. She’s never had to be a soldier. She’s pure in a way. Unburdened by the war. It’s why Ron likes her so much.” Draco regarded her carefully before sighing.

“But if someone were to recognise me?” he asked.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” She took a long look at him and smiled sweetly. “You look dashing.” He chuckled and pulled her even closer.

“You look divine.” A blush crept up Hermione’s cheeks.

Thankfully, the night was going without a hitch. No one seemed too eager to cause trouble and for the first time in days, Hermione felt free. She danced with Ginny and Amanda, who wanted to have as many girl-moments as possible. She danced with Harry, in memory of their time on the run, when he’d danced with her to cheer her up. And she danced with Draco, who seemed to be enjoying himself more than Hermione could have predicted. She even danced with Ron, although that was still slightly awkward. She was sat at a tall chair, Draco directly behind her, his arms wrapped around her when she summoned enough courage to actually speak to him.

“How was your Christmas?” she asked, hoping it was a casual enough start of the conversation.

“It was more pleasant than I thought it would be. My mother seems to be recovering fast. And Luna’s satchel did wonders. I already sent her a thank you letter. How was yours?”

“It was good. But Fleur took an instant dislike to Amanda for some inexplicable reason, so it was a little tense.”

“I could guess why.” He said with a chuckle.

“She’s not that bad!”

“No, that’s not it. She might come off a little annoying at first but she’s nice enough. It’s that Ron dumped you for her. I think that’s what’s rubbing Fleur the wrong way.” Hemione turned to look at him, thinking he was joking, but his eyes were serious. “I can introduce her to Blaise, and he’d dislike her for that same reason, even though she’s just his type. Blond, bubbly, with an understated flair for the dramatics.”

“You just described yourself in your own eyes.” She said with a huff.

“And Luna,” he whispered in her ear. Hermione stiffened. “You really didn’t suspect?” she shook her head. “Well, Luna doesn’t seem to fall for his charms as readily as everyone else, so he’s a bit stumped.” He seemed to think about something, before walking in front of her and taking her hands in his. “As am I,” he said with a smile. “Pansy said you were a little blind when it came to this.”

“You talk to Pansy about me?”

“You’re a brilliant witch, but sometimes I’m infuriated at how bad you are at picking up cues.” She was about to protest because certainly, she was good at this. She’d known of the three guys that had fancied her – Viktor Krum, McLaggen, and Ron. Before she could say anything, Draco cupped her cheek, angling her face up, and kissed her. His lips were soft and warm, and his hand was gentle, but when Hermione gasped for breath and leaned into him, he kissed her with a hunger that made her legs feel like jelly. She tried to pull him closer to her, but her dress was too tight for her to accommodate his legs between hers. He pulled away from the kiss but rested his forehead against hers. “Easy there. We’re in public.” He took a shaky breath and rested his hands on the back of her chair, encasing her between his body and the chair. “I was going to wait for New Years, but you’re hard to resist.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” she said and looked at him. Her lipstick was smeared over his lips and she reached to wipe it with her thumb. The moment felt so raw and intimate, she felt fear creeping in. Moments like this didn’t last long. Not for her.

“Hermione?” he asked, placing one hand on her arm. “Is something wrong?” she frantically shook her head and cupped his cheek. He didn’t seem to buy it.

“I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen.” She whispered and he circled to his previous position behind her, before hugging her like before.

“I know that feeling.” He said, “I desperately want to tell you nothing will happen, but…”

“We’ve been through a war.” She finished. It had been less than a year since the Battle of Hogwarts. “But we made it through.”

Hermione’s eyes landed on Amanda and Ron, having the time of their lives. Near them, Ginny and Harry were dancing, rather offbeat. They were too busy talking to notice anything else. Hermione noted the difference between the two couples. Even at the Burrow, Harry and Ginny seemed to be in their own little world and they didn’t leave it to talk to others – they brought them in. Hermione liked talking to them when they were together, there seemed to be a certain symbiosis the two of them had achieved. Ron and Amanda, on the other hand, looked like they would rather spend every second experiencing the outside world as it was. Hermione realised why she and Ron wouldn’t have worked long-term. It wasn’t that they didn’t love each other. But he wanted to experience everything, he needed to live outside his head, while Hermione couldn’t do that. Her whole life had been based on her brains and smarts, and she couldn’t just live outside her own mind. The song ended and Amanda dragged Ron behind her over to Hermione and Draco. She took her drink and downed it in a surprisingly lady-like fashion. She set her glass down and smiled at Hermione.

“I want a cigarette, but Ron’s being a baby. Saying it’s too cold outside. Would you mind keeping me company?” she asked Hermione. With a shrug, Hermione loosened Draco’s arms from around her and hopped from the chair.

“Sure. I could use some air,” she touched the top of her wand, which was sticking from her boot, for reassurance and followed Amanda out. They stood outside the wizarding entrance, under the warming charm that was placed in the smoking area.

“Is he your boyfriend?” asked Amanda casually. Hermione was a little taken aback by the girl’s frankness. She knew for sure Amanda knew about Hermione and Ron’s past. “The handsome blonde, I mean.”

“I guess he is.” She answered and smiled at the thought. “Hey, how long have you been in the UK?” she asked curiously.

“About two months now. Is it that obvious I’m new?” Amanda chuckled and Hermione gave her a reassuring smile.

“It’s not a bad thing. You just don’t seem to recognise faces from the papers.” Hermione nodded towards the giant poster on the other side of the street. It was of Neville cutting off the head of Nagini, looped over and over. “Do you know who he is?”

“I know he is Neville,” she hesitated on the last name for a moment, “Longbottom, but I don’t think I’d recognise him if I saw him in person.” She shook her head. “I’m bad at recognising people like that, and I don’t really read the papers anyway so even if I could, I might not.” Hermione nodded. It explained how she didn’t recognise Draco even though his trial was one of the most publicised ones. “Do you know him?”

“He’s one of my best friends.” Said Hermione and smiled. “He’s home for the holidays with two friends of ours to avoid his grandmother’s matchmaking attempts.”

“Oh, I hate those. My parents tried it three times with me. It’s why I moved to another country.” She laughed and snubbed her cigarette bud. “Hey, I know I might be a little late, but I hope you know that I never meant to break you two up.”

“Oh, no, you didn’t. We were separated.” Assured her Hermione.

“Still, in the beginning, it felt like Ron was feeling guilty about hanging out with me. And Harry was always reminding him there were other things to do first. It just happened.” Hermione rested her hand over Amanda’s on the railing.

“Don’t worry about it, really. It worked out for everyone.” Amanda gave her a warm smile and hugged Hermione tight.

“I really like him,” she said and pulled away. “But I realise it’ll always be the three of you – you, Ron, and Harry. I can live with that.” Hermione was about to try and change the subject when a loud crash came from further down the street. The crash was followed by people screaming. Acting purely on reflexes, Hermione drew her wand and jumped over the railing. Harry and Ron were the first out the door and at Hermione’s side, followed quickly by Draco and Ginny. “What’s happening?” asked Amanda, worry evident in her voice.

“Call this in.” Said Harry to Ron before turning to Ginny. “Take Amanda inside.” But he was too late. A flash of green light lit the sky and there was a glowing skull with a snake sneaking out of its mouth. Amanda yelped, clasping her hands over her mouth.

“I thought the spell was useless since his death.” Hermione turned over to Draco, who was trying to look casual while pressing his left arm to his stomach.

“It can no longer summon Voldemort, but it’s still working. It’s a beacon.” He said and gasped. Hermione couldn’t care much for Amanda’s reaction.

“Knockturn Alley?” asked Harry turning towards Draco as well.

“My best guess.” Said Draco and gasped again. Hermione was at his side, cradling his neck in her hand, as he doubled over in pain.

“Go, we’ll meet you there,” she said to Harry and Ron. With a flash of white light, they disappeared. She turned to Draco. “Can you find where it’s coming from?”

“The beacon is for people like me, it’s drawing me in,” he said and cast a sideways glance to Amanda. “You should have let me tell her earlier. Now she’s double freaked.”

“I’ll stay with her,” said Ginny, her voice strained. “I’ll make sure everyone here is fine and no one is injured.” Hermione nodded.

“Can you apparate?” He twisted his head in a spasm.

“Yes, but it’s not the pretty type.” She clung to him and nodded. In a loud crack and a puff of black smoke, they were gone. They arrived just as Harry and Ron came running from behind the corner. “In there,” he said pointing to one of the empty windows. “Whoever cast it did it from there.” Harry turned to Ron and they seemed to be communicating without speaking. Hermione could see they had become a duo since starting Auror training

“Hermione, stay out here, make sure the Aurors know where we are when they arrive.”

“Like hell I am!” she yelled back at Harry.

“Hermione, someone needs to be his alibi.” His eyes darted to Draco and back. But before Hermione could agree, something in her peripheral vision moved.

“ _Expeliarmus!_ ” she yelled, pointing her wand haphazardly and a figure dressed in black few into the wall. Harry rushed forwards. She saw the figure raise their want but Draco as faster.

“ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ” the hooded figure froze, wand falling to the ground. With another flick of his wand, Draco bound the figure’s hands. Draco raised his wand and the figure rose from the ground, with a harsh flick the figure dropped to their knees. Hermione looked to Draco, who had his eyes trained on Harry. The green light from the mark in the sky cast terrifying shadows on his face, his eyes were in shadows and so were the hollows of his cheek. He looked like a skull, and Hermione saw what the younger students saw. For them, he didn’t exist before his fame as a high-ranking Death Eater. They didn’t know the scared 13-year-old she punched in the face, or the gentle man, who held her in his lap and read alchemical texts out loud until the small hours of the night. She forced her eyes away from him and to the figure. Harry placed an Auror binding spell on it and Draco lowered his wand, ending all incantations. Hermione filed how impressed she was with his abilities for later examination.

“Under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Magic and the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, I’m placing you under arrest for summoning the Dark mark and the suspicion of misuse of the Dark Arts.” He lowered the black hood and Hemione gasped.

“Mr Malfoy,” gasped a girl, no older than 15. “It’s an honour.” Draco’s lip curled up in an expression of rage that looked more terrifying now than it did when he was 12. Hermione grasped his hand and for a second he tensed as if he was going to flinch away, before wrapping his fingers around hers. In a rapid succession of bright flickers, they were surrounded by Aurors. Before Hermione could react, two of them had wrestled Draco to the ground and pushed her away. He didn’t resist, but Hermione certainly did. She trashed against the Auror who was holding her back and Ron had to restrain her himself before she sucker-punched someone.

“Calm down, Hermione.” He said in warning. “If you hit someone you’d get arrested for assault.” She wanted to shout that the assault was happening before her eyes, but bit her tongue. He was right and she knew it.

“Let him go!” shouted Harry at the Aurors holding Draco down. “Let him go! He’s helping us.” Harry pushed one of the Aurors and undid the binding spell on Draco, before helping him up. “Alright, mate?” Draco ran his hands through his hair and his eyes landed on Hermione, who was no longer struggling against Ron’s grip. He let her go and as if connected to Draco by a rubber band she ran into him, warping her arms around him.

“Yeah, Potter, I’m good.” He wrapped his arms around Hemione and bent down to rest his forehead on top of her head.

“Go back to the Burrow with Ginny and Amanda, both of you.” Said Ron laying a hand on Draco’s shoulder awkwardly. “Harry and I have some paperwork to do, but we’ll be back before midnight.”

“I don’t think your girlfriend will appreciate a Death Eater lurking around.” Said Draco with a scoff. “I’ll take Hermione to Ginny and go back to Hogwarts.” Ron shook his head and pursed his lips in a tight smile.

“I see only one Death Eater and she’s being detained. Plus, I think Hermione will decapitate me if I even try to separate you two.” Ron looked pointedly at the way Hermione was gripping Draco’s coat. She relaxed her grip slightly but didn’t step away. “Go, Harry has already sent his Patronus to Ginny.” Draco nodded to Ron and pulled Hermione along the alley. Once they were out of the Aurors’s sight he pulled her away from him, gripping her by the shoulders.

“Are you okay?” he asked holding her at an arm’s length. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind, but adrenaline was pounding through her veins and her ears were ringing. Her fight or flight response was activated in full force and fight had become her default.

“I should be asking you that? Why didn’t you struggle? Why didn’t you try and explain you were helping?” she shoved a finger in his chest. He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and smiled at her.

“Good, you’re not in shock.”

“Don’t be coy, Malfoy.”

“Do you really think they’d have believed me? You’re the only reason I’m not rotting in Azkaban. I’m sure there is an unofficial price on my head, along with a few of my friends’.” Hermione lowered her hand and swallowed. “I always knew it would be hell working with them, I’m just glad I got a taste early on.”

“Are you okay?” she asked him quietly.

“Only my ego is hurt.” He said and offered her his hand. She took it and he apparated them to the club in a flash of bright light. When they materialised, Amanda yelped again and jumped back, but Ginny just rushed forward and hugged Hermione.

“You’re alright.” She said, releasing Hermione and hugged Draco. He was surprised but returned the hug carefully. “Let’s go. I’ll take Amanda, Hermione knows the place.” Ginny walked back to Amanda taking her by the hand. Amanda’s eyes were still wide when she disappeared.

“We don’t have to go there. We can go anywhere.” Draco pulled her to him, wrapping her ponytail around his fist again.

“And not take advantage of Weasley’s white flag? I don’t think so. Go before Ginny comes back and kicks my arse.” Hermione took a deep breath and apparated them to the burrow. George was standing on the doorway. Hermione wasn’t sure what she was expecting but it wasn’t the amused slime that played on his lips and the suggestive wiggle of his brows.

“Well, come on in,” he said impatiently and beckoned them in. “So, our Hermione’s gone bad, huh.” He said as Hermione walked past him. She shot him a hard look, but he ignored her, closing the door behind them. “If the rumours are true, hats off.” Hermione’s brow furrowed.

“What rumours?” Asked Hermione. George laughed but Draco seemed more embarrassed than amused. “Let me guess, Pansy?” His cheeks went pink and he cleared his throat.

“While you were busy reading the entire Hogwarts library, Draco here earned himself several very inappropriate nicknames.” Said George, “Respect.”

“Wait,” said Draco turning to George, “Is that why for several months my belts turned to snakes as soon as I took them off? Was that you?” George laughed and clapped Draco on the shoulder.

“Snakes?” asked Hermione. Her adrenaline was subsiding, and she was beginning to feel tired.

“Of various breeds.” Said George, “Until we heard confirmation, we’ve got it right. Ah, Fred was elated when Zabini confirmed.”

“I’ll kill him,” muttered Draco, running one hand through his hair.

“In my fourth year, I heard some Ravenclaws use wands instead of snakes.” Said Ginny from the staircase.

“Two different aspects, of course,” Said George and laughed. He looked at Hermione and brought his hands in front of his face about a few inches apart and began separating them further.

“Oh!” exclaimed Hermione, eyes wide and covered her mouth with her hands to cover her hysterical laughter.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” asked Draco sharply and George pushed him in the direction of the living room.

“Alright, we’ll circle back to this tomorrow. Mum and Dad are out – I told them not to rush back and that everyone was fine, so it’ll be just us for New Year’s.” Hermione sat on the couch and pulled Draco after her. Ginny curled up in an armchair closer to the fire.

“How’s Amanda?” asked Draco, letting Hermione nestle as close to him as possible.

“Shaken up. It’s her first Dark mark, and consequently her first encounter with serious Dark magic.” Ginny shrugged. “I’d forgotten some people didn’t spend the last few years in the same way we did. I think I lost my temper with her a little at first.” Hermione sighed and stood up. Draco looked at her quizzingly.

“I’ll check up on her. I think I’m the least scary person to her right now.” She let her fingers graze Draco’s arm from elbow to the tips of his fingers as she left.

Amanda was curled up in Ron’s bed when Hermione gently knocked on the door and entered.

“Hey,” she said and felt foolish. She hadn’t had to comfort people in this way in years. “How are you feeling?” Amanda tossed a few old newspapers at Hermione. Draco’s face was plastered all over their front pages. In most, he was in chains, but the latest was from the day of his release from custody.

“He’s a Death Eater.” She spat out.

“He used to be, yes.”

“That’s not something you just stop being! You have to be really fucked up to join in the first place.”

“He didn’t join voluntarily.” Hermione was fighting hard to keep her voice level. “He was drafted, just like me, and just like Harry, and just like Ron.”

“It’s different.” Amanda stood and went to the window.

“Not that different. I’m sorry if this was too much of a shock, but we’ve been living in a grey area of this,” Hermione discarded the newspapers on the floor, “this war for so long, that we forget others don’t see it like us.”

“Wasn’t he the one who tortured you?”

“His aunt – Bellatrix Lestrange.” Hermione’s voice was calmer than she’d thought it would be. “But he and his mother had a big role in saving Harry’s life in the final battle. Not everything is good or bad. Often people fall in the cracks.”

“That’s bullshit!” Amanda turned around and Hermione saw true fear on her face. She understood, because if the bad guys could pass as good, then how could anyone feel safe in this world?

“Have you heard of Severus Snape?” Amanda nodded but didn’t say anything. “He was a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. Given the Order of Merlin, Second class, post-mortem, for his help to the war effort on our side.” Amanda nodded again. “He was a Death Eater. Voldemort’s most trusted man. He killed Albus Dumbledore. He was a spy for us, and he gave his life protecting Harry’s.” Amanda’s face was a mask of horror. “Amanda, war is not as straightforward as the papers make it seem. We never used the killing curse, but many people died by our hands.” Hermione felt her eyes water. She had never talked about it. “But history is written by the winners, and the good guys won, but we’re only the good guys if we make sure we don’t abuse our power. Draco was pardoned because he proved he was on our side.”

“He’s still…” her eyes snapped to the door. “Ron!” she rushed to him and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, looking briefly at Hermione.

“Hermione is right, Amanda. Draco Malfoy may be a first-class git, but he’s one of us.”

“But if you start pardoning Death Eaters when will you stop?” Ron shrugged in response. How could he answer the question if he himself had wondered that just a few months ago?

“When we’ve put them all on trial. Today’s case – a 14-year-old girl.” Amanda’s hand shot up to her mouth in shock. “The youngest I’ve seen bearing the mark. Her parents were tortured in front of her until she lost her mind. Do you think she’s evil?” She shook her head. “Neither do I. The same way I don’t think a boy of 16 taking the mark to protect his family is evil. Just betrayed by those who were supposed to protect him.”

“I’ll go downstairs.” Said Hermione quietly, slipping out of the room. Ron looked devastated and she wanted to give them some space. She stopped a few steps before the landing on the lower floor when she heard Ginny’s voice.

“How long has it been?”

“What do you want to hear, Ginny? I’m not sure.”

“Well, what can you be sure of?” asked Harry.

“I’ve been absolutely certain for maybe 20 days. But it could have begun during my trial. Or maybe even before that, in school.” 

“In school?” Harry sounded astounded.

“Do you think I paid so much attention to every muggle-born in school, Potter? At first, I thought it was because she was around you and you were an obvious target, but I’m starting to think it was something more.” Ginny squealed excitedly and laughed.

“This is fucked up, Malfoy.”

“I know, Potter,” Draco sounded exasperated. “Trust me, I couldn’t apologise to her enough.”

“What about us? You tormented me and Ron as well.” There was a pause.

“Yeah, but I don’t like you nearly as much as I like her.”

“I certainly hope you don’t,” said Hermione, appearing from the staircase. Draco straightened and blushed for the second time tonight.

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough.” She sat on the couch next to him and pulled a blanket over her lap. “It’s almost the New Year.” She said looking at the clock. She could feel Draco’s eyes on her, as she nestled against his side. Draco stretched one arm across the back of the sofa, bringing his other hand to Hermione, so she could play with his fingers.

“Was she really 14?” asked Ginny after a long pause. Harry nodded form his position next to the fireplace. “I was 14 when I joined the DA.” She said again, looking at Harry’s back. She reached for his hand and he let her take it in hers but didn’t turn around.

“We were all children, who never should have had such responsibilities.” Said Draco. “On either side.” He brought his free hand to Hermione’s ponytail and carefully pulled out the string that held it in place and the charm vanished. Her hair fell over her shoulders and started slowly returning to its bushy glory. Draco placed a soft kiss on the top of her head, and she felt tears well in her eyes again.

“A year ago, on Christmas eve, I saw my parents’ graves for the first time.” Said Harry quietly and turned around. Draco sighed and with three snaps of his fingers, several bottles appeared on the floor next to him. Hermione recognised the assortment.

“We’re going to need this.” He smiled down at Hermione. “It did wonders last time.” She tilted her chin defiantly.

“Yes, and you had an episode.”

“I have those too sometimes. From the curses during last year.” Said Ginny. “A few weeks ago, I fell off my bench in Potions and Slughorn almost had a coronary right there and then.” She giggled despite the subject matter. Hermione extended her arm gestured with her index and middle finger. The champagne uncorked itself silently. Draco whistled, impressed.

“You’re not the only one who can do wandless magic, Malfoy.” She hoped she sounded as close to his usual sark as possible. The bottle flew to her hand and she took a long swig. “Last New Year’s we were at war. This one we’re safe.” Harry scoffed in response. Hermione shook her head with a sad smile and took another sip. Ginny fished out her wand and opened a bottle of wine, before pouring two mugfuls. Hermione followed her example, taking a mug she had left on the table before leaving for the party. Draco just pulled a firewhisky out of the assortment and drank from the bottle, letting it dangle from his fingers over the armrest.

“I spent last Christmas mastering Occlumency with my dear aunt.” Harry and Hermione took a sharp breath in unison.

“That’s it.” Sid Ron from the stairs. Amanda was clinging to his arm. “We have to get better Holiday stories. I say we go outside and have a snowball fight right now.”

“Ron are you mental? It’s freezing out. And pitch black.” Said Ginny.

“Up! All of you! This is ridiculous, neither of us has had a decent holiday in years, save Amanda. We’re doing something festive and light-hearted. And we’re doing it now. You too, Ferret.” Draco cocked an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth twisting into a small smile.

“You know, Weasel, your bossiness doesn’t really inspire light-heartedness.” Ron fought a smile and did his best to school his expression. Hermione won’t tell, but Ron looked to be enjoying the light verbal sparring. Mostly because it meant that he can still insult Malfoy without bringing forth Hermione’s wrath.

“What can we do that is full of holiday cheer while staying dry and warm?” asked Ginny, pointedly.

“My family used to make hot chocolate and play board games.” Said Amanda, tentatively. She wouldn’t look in Draco’s direction and was almost hiding behind Ron.

“Sounds good enough to me.” Said Harry. “Do we have all ingredients?” Ron shrugged and the three of them headed to the kitchen.

“I’ll get changed and get George.” She gave Draco a quick peck and went back up the stairs. She pulled on a pair of fleece pjs – they weren’t fancy, but they were warm and new, and she thought it would be the best outfit for new warm traditions. She approached George’s room tentatively. She knocked on the door quietly. “George? Can I come in?”

“Yeah, Hermione.” She opened the door and saw him sitting on the floor, rummaging through boxes. Fred’s stuff, she realised.

“We’re having hot chocolate and playing games. We could use your experience.” He gave her a sad smile and shook his head.

“I don’t want to be the 7th wheel.” He said, going back to his boxes.

“If it’s any consolation we will never settle on a game – Draco will refuse to play anything muggle on principle, and Amanda still cowers behind Ron, so anything that requires her to let go of his hand is out of the question.” She placed a hand on George’s shoulder. “At least come ring in the New Year with us. We have copious amounts of expensive booze.” George turned to look at Hermione, head tilted sideways.

“Where did that come from?” Hermione scrunched up her nose.

“I’m pretty sure Draco has a house elf on his disposal 24/7, but I can only fight one battle at a time.” He gave her a weak laugh and stood up.

“Alright, but only because there is booze.” He shook himself off as if shedding his cloak and gave her a broad smile. “Let’s see how they make hot chocolate with the scarce ingredients left.” When they descended Draco was warming the milk on the stove, using magic. At least he didn’t have his elf bring him ready hot chocolate. “Did you know he can cook?” asked George, sounding impressed.

“I suspected he was competent around kitchen appliances.” She responded, thinking of Draco making tea in their common room. Harry and Ginny were readying the rest of the ingredients and the cups. She and George sat on the table with the others and soon the chocolate was ready. The table was suddenly adorned in various assortments of chocolate sprinkles, spices and whipped cream. “I’d appreciate it if you stopped doing this.”

“I didn’t do this, Granger. The alcohol yes, but I didn’t request this.”

“Mopes does it because Mopes is happy.” Everyone but Draco whirled around to see a small house-elf, dressed in a white wrap. “Mopes didn’t mean to scare.”

“That’s quite alright, Mopes. I’m Hermione.” Hermione extended her hand for the elf to shake. Mopes’ eyes went wide and darted to Draco quickly. He nodded silently and Mopes jumped at the chance to shake the witch’s hand.

“Oh, miss Hermione! Mopes has heard so much about you and your work for the elves.” Mopes shook Hermione’s hand excitedly and jumped up and down a few times when they broke the handshake.

“Mopes sounds French,” said Gunny. “Reminds me of Fleur.”

“Mopes has been with my family for generations. Came here with my ancestors all the way from France.”

“Mopes is just happy to help Mr Draco and his friends.”

“That is very sweet, Mopes.” Said Harry, and Mopes smiled and pulled on its ears a little. “How do you know about Hermione’s work?”

“Oh, Dobby used to tell us stories about her. She is going to be a brilliant witch, he used to say, Dobby, did.”

“Thank you for the lovely spread, Mopes.” Said Hermione. Mopes nodded furiously, still smiling.

“You can go home now, Mopes. Thank you.”

“I shall tell Mistress you are well. She will be happy.” Mopes vanished just as soundlessly as he had appeared. Hermione shifted her gaze to Draco, who had already finished pouring the chocolate in mugs.

“Don’t start.” He said without looking up. “I can’t free Mopes, even if I wanted to. I’m not master of the Manor.”

“Even _if_ you wanted to?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“Oh, this is going to be good.” Snickered George.

“Five Galleons he breaks.” Whispered Ginny and he shook her hand.

“I’m not exactly capable of caring for a manor by myself, am I? The hot chocolate was enough of a struggle.” Hermione didn’t respond, just stared at him. he met her eyes and the two of them stared at each other for a long time. His fingers tapped on the counter he was leaning on. His grey eyes looked cold and calculating. “Fine, once I am master of the Manor, I’ll draw a contract for Mopes and all other house-elves on the grounds. Room and board, minimum wage.”

“Holidays off.” Said Hermione and he laughed a cold unamused sound, but his eyes sparkled. It drove Hermione wild, in all the good ways – he was negotiating. Hermione stood from her chair, facing him.

“No way. All off days must be agreed upon two weeks in advance and they can’t all take holidays at the same time.”

“Double wages on the Holidays.”

“Wage and a half.” He took a sharp step towards her and Amanda’s breath hitched when his wand came out.

“Double. Or I bring in the Weekends into this.” Hermione got her wand out as well. Everyone held their breath.

“Wage and a half, and new robes once a year. No, I’m feeling generous, twice a year.” Hermione stuck out her non-dominant hand and Draco took it in a business handshake. The tips of their wand twinkled as the deal was made. Hermione looked him in the eyes and all her glee over the deal vanished.

“Fuck!” she cursed when he let go oh her hand. He was smiling like the cat that ate the canary.

“What?” asked Ginny, “That was a good deal, Hermione!”

“It was a very good deal for the elves.” Said Draco, the shit-eating grin not leaving his face. “But Malfoys are expert negotiators. There hasn’t been a deal we haven’t taken full advantage of in centuries. And I just made sure the legacy continues.” Hermione could see everyone’s confused expression.

“I was so busy negotiating the terms on behalf of the elves I forgot the most important question in negotiating.” She turned back to Draco. “What do you get out of this?” he feigned innocence and shrugged. “What is your side of the deal, Malfoy.”

“I’ll take some time to think about it.” He said walking past Hermione, brushing his hand against hers. “The contract is as good as signed, anyway.”

“What does that mean?” asked Amanda quietly.

“It means that he can technically ask for anything in return.” Whispered Ron in return.

“Anything?”

“Anything legal.” Added Harry quickly. He could sense the direction of Amanda’s thoughts.

“I can’t believe you tricked me.” Muttered Hermione taking her seat between Draco and George.

“Neither can we.” George turned to Ginny. “Who wins?”

“I do.” Said Ron and everyone turned to look at him. Draco slid 10 Galleons his way but didn’t look too sad to be parting with them. “I know I said I’d never bet against you, Hermione, but I saw this one coming. The moment he started negotiating I knew you’d forget to think of his side of the deal.” He shrugged, pocketing the money. “Sorry,” he said, and Hermione threw a piece of chocolate at him. He caught it in one hand and popped it in his mouth.

“Ronald Bilius Weasley,” said Hermione and Harry and Ginny snickered. “You’ll pay for this.” He laughed.

“See, this is the type of warm and fuzzy memories I’m talking about. Shaking 10 Galleons off Malfoy is a good place to start.”

Hermione was right that they wouldn’t choose a game before midnight. When the clock chimed midnight Draco took Hermione’s hand and kissed her knuckles, before kissing her lips gently. She then turned to George and kissed him on the cheek, rubbing the back of his neck lovingly. After everyone had congratulated each other, George excused himself and went back upstairs. Hermione made the mental note to check on him tomorrow morning. A while later, after Ron and Amanda retired for the evening, Ginny gave Hermione a suggestive look and got Harry to agree to go to bed as well, leaving Draco and Hermione alone.

“I should go,” he said standing up from the couch.

“Stay,” said Hermione too fast. She caught his hand and pulled him back to her. “Stay.” She whispered.

“Mrs Weasley will be back in a few hours, and I don’t think she and her husband will be very happy to see me.” Hermione desperately wanted to tell him they won’t mind, but she couldn’t be sure.

“Mum will be angrier if you don’t stay.” Ginny was leaning over the railing of the staircase. “I might have let it slip that you’ll be spending New Year’s with us.” She shrugged.

“And how did you know I’ll end up here, Weaselette?” his arms were crossed defensively, but his voice was playful. She gave him an over-the-top offended look.

“I’m Hermione’s best friend! If you think she hasn’t told me absolutely everything you’re in for a big surprise when I find out _exactly_ which rumours are true.” She flashed him a brilliant smile. Hermione gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Ginny disappeared up the stairs as suddenly as she’d come down.

“Well, I guess you can stay then.” She said quietly and yelped when Draco pounced on her, he lifted her over his shoulder. He bounced once so his shoulder ug in the soft bit of her stomach making her gasp.

“I’m ashamed to admit, I did not think this through.” He said lowering Hermione to the floor. “I have no idea where the rooms are in this place.” She chuckled and took his hand leading him up the stairs to the room she was sleeping in. On the bed was a clean, pressed set of pjs.

“Mopes?” he shook his head. Molly must have prepared them then. “I can’t even begin to think what was going through her head.” She let go of his hand. “I’ll use the bathroom really quick.” She left him to get dressed. Ginny was waiting for her in the bathroom. “What am I doing?” Hermione asked almost panicked when she closed the door.

“Spending the night with a guy you like. You’ve done this before.”

“Yes, but there has been a segue between the living room and the bedroom.” Said Hermione taking in her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was its bushy self again, she looked tired but otherwise normal. “But now there isn’t one. It’s just going to be awkward.”

“No, it’s not. You said it yourself, you’re very comfortable with each other, physically. Just don’t think of the bed as a _bed_ bed. Let things progress naturally.” Hermione nodded, gripping the sink in determination. She took a mouthful of mouth wash and swirled it furiously. Ginny chuckled at her rigour.

“Alright, wish me luck.” Hermione exited the bathroom, assuming Ginny will leave soon after. What Hemione didn’t know was that when she gave Draco instructions to find the bathroom, Ginny was still there, waiting to give him the same advice. She chuckled again when he swirled mouthwash with the same rigour.

“Alright, fingers crossed I don’t fuck this up.” He made his way to Hermione’s room.

In Harry and Ginny’s room, she called one of the family owls and gave it a small piece of paper tied with a red string. She whispered Neville’s address and sent the owl flying.

“What was that?” asked Harry, already in bed. Ginny tucked herself next to him.

“Just relaying a message.” She said cryptically.

“I figured something out.” Said Hermione, looking out the window, when Draco returned to the bedroom.

“You’re a smart woman, I expected you to grasp at least one concept in your life.” He said with a smile. She rolled her eyes at him but turned around.

“You bet against Ron, which means you bet that I would outsmart you.” He nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. “Why?”

“It was a win-win scenario.” He shrugged. Hermione crossed the room to him.

“You lost 10 Galleons.” He reached over and took her hand, pulling her towards him, until she was standing between his knees.

“If I had won, I got to see your victorious face – a win. If I lost, I would get to demand my side of the deal.” Hermione froze, her posture tightening. “Merlin, no!” he said quickly, “No, nothing like that. I’m not going to trick you into having sex with me, Hermione!” he rubbed his hands over his face and Hermione felt guilt settle in her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and pried his hands off his face. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I reacted like that. I didn’t think you would. I’m sorry.” she kissed his hands and sat next to him, her knee brushing against his thigh. “What do you want?”

“I want to draft the contracts together. I want your word that whatever happens between now and the day I inherit the Manor, whether we’re together or not, you will sit down with me and draft the contracts. I want to prove to you that I’ve become a better man than I was set up by my father to be.” Hermione’s heart skipped a beat, and her stomach sank under the sincerity in his words. She stroked his jaw until he turned to look at her. She kissed him deeply and sighed when she pulled away.

“Alright.” She said quietly. “This is more than reasonable. I’d be proud to be the woman who negotiated on behalf of the Malfoy elves.” Her eyes wandered over his face and down his neck. The top two buttons of his pjs were buttoned up and looked to be digging into his skin. She reached for them and undid them, opening his collar, before he could stop her. She gasped as she saw the angry red mark that spread over his collar bones.

“I’m alright. It’s just a bruise.”

“From tonight.” He nodded and closed his collar. She stood and went to her trunk, pulling out a small satchel. She proceeded to plunge her arm to the shoulder in it. Draco’s eyes had an amused twinkle in them.

“You know this is an illegal spell, Granger?” he said. She threw him a dirty look and he raised his hands defensively. She finally took out a small jar of something that looked positively disgusting. She opened it and sniffed it carefully, before making a sour face but sniffed it again.

“It’s still good.” She said approaching him. He backed away on the bed until his back hit the wall.

“I’m also good, thanks.” He said trying to evade her.

“Stop behaving like a baby. It’s an anti-bruising paste.”

“Why do you have an anti-bruising paste on your trip to the Weasleys?”

“It’s old. I think I made it about a year ago.” It was part of her medical supplies for when she was on the run. “Take your shirt off.” She looked at him and raised a finger. “I know, if I wanted to see you shirtless, I should have just asked.” He tried to give her a coy smile, but it soon became an expression of pure delight at how well she knew him already. He did as instructed, doing his best not to betray any sense of pain. She held her breath, seeing not only the bruises on his chest but on his back and shoulders, where the Aurors’ knees had pinned him to the ground. “You should feel a warming sensation as fresh blood rushes to the bruise and a cooling down as it washes away the stagnant blood.” She started applying the paste. The smell was horrible, but it disappeared as soon as the paste was rubbed in.

“You’re good at this.”

“Taking care of injured men? I’ve had practice.” She gave him a small smile and bent her head down again. Her fingers brushed over his collarbone in gentle circles. He leaned back into the wall, making her bend over him, her hair falling on his chest and stomach.

“Caring. You care so much it’s tearing you apart not to have someone to care about.”

“You shouldn’t be complaining.”

“I’m not, I’m just making an observation.” He brushed part of her hair back so he could see her face. “But you should take care of yourself as well. I’ve been watching you. The war took a lot from you, and you are desperately trying to go back to who you were before.”

“I’m trying.” She said, looking up at him. “I just have no idea who I am without a threat on my life. I was the brains, the book-smart one, all my life. I thought going back to Hogwarts will remind me what 13-year-old me loved about school and I could pick up from there. But instead, I’ve never felt so lost.” She bent down over his chest again and he looked down to see the bluish-red of the bruises slowly disappear into a barely visible yellow. “Lay on your stomach.” He obeyed and turned over, scooting down on the bed. He felt her hands brush over his shoulder blades and down his spine. A shiver ran over his body and she drew her hands back. “Is it painful?”

“No,” he breathed. He turned his head so he could face her. “It’s actually quite nice.” He saw her blush and gave her a warm smile. If he could make her blush like that for the rest of his life, he’d be a happy man. Her hands returned to his shoulder and she worked the paste into is skin. He felt her fingers still when she had covered the last bruise. “Don’t stop.” He said. “Please.” She closed the jar and placed it on the small bedside table.

“Okay. Scoot over.” He wiggled himself to one side of the bed and she lay next to him, twisting the pillow under her head, so it was raised. She brought one hand to his back and started gently tracing each vertebra from his neck down to the waistband of his bottoms, before dragging the back of her finger back up. He opened his eyes to look at her and saw her dazed expression.

“See something you like?” her eyes snapped to his and she swallowed hard.

“Actually, yes.” She dragged her nail gently down his spine again and this time he was conscious of the involuntary tensing of his back muscles. “This.” She said quietly. He chuckled and twisted until his head was lying on her stomach. She shifted a little, while trying to get more comfortable, but didn’t let him get off her.

“Goodnight.” He said into her stomach and felt her breath falter. He rested one palm over her waist, fingers brushing her lower ribs. She interlaced her fingers with his other hand and continued stroking his back gently.

“Goodnight,” she whispered.


	4. Making Amends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:  
> \- Your baby fever is concerning.  
> \- Yeah? We'll speak again in five minutes.
> 
> Fair warning, I might have aged Teddy by a few months, but I'm not good with the baby milestones

When Hermione woke up the next morning, Draco was gone. Her heart sank for a moment, but she pushed the thought aside. He was probably downstairs. She quickly got dressed and headed downstairs. Ginny met her halfway down, her expression utterly ecstatic.  
“Teddy is here!” she squealed. “Andromeda brought him over.” Hermione smiled at her. “Mum invited her for tea but is now hiding in the kitchen.” She said through laughter. “And Teddy is just as adorable as always!”

“Why is she hiding? Molly loves Andromeda.” Asked Hermione confused.

“Draco.” Said Ginny with a knowing smile. This must have been planned all along – a family reunion of sorts. “I don’t think they’ve ever met and mum wanted to give them some space. Andromeda was a bit apprehensive at first, but Teddy took an instant liking to him, so she mellowed.” Ginny’s eyes glimmered every time she mentioned Teddy.

“You baby fever is concerning.” Said Hermione, shaking her head.

“Yeah? We’ll speak again in five minutes.” Ginny grabbed her hand and dragged her down the rest of the stairs. Molly was busying herself in the kitchen, while Harry and George were trying to entertain Teddy. He was a cute kid, but Hermione didn’t see what made Ginny that giddy every time she saw him. Ginny made a happy noise when Teddy determinately slipped by George, who was distracted by a toy that was also making a run for it, conveniently, in the other direction of Teddy. He narrowly escaped being caught by Harry, who now lay on the ground, one arm outstretched towards two chubby legs, crawling toward the living room.

“Teddy, get back here!” groaned Harry. Before scrambling to his feet. “Let your Grandmother take a break.” Teddy babbled something but didn’t stop, rounding the corner just before Harry. “He’s an escape artist.” Groaned Harry, coming to a stop. She heard Draco’s laugh at Harry’s remark, closely followed by Teddy’s and from around the corner appeared Draco, overdressed for the occasion, with Teddy hanging from the crook of his arm, laughing. Hermione felt something inside her melt and heat pooled in her abdomen.

“Morning,” he greeted Hermione with a smile, before depositing Teddy in Harry’s arms. She realised her jaw was hanging a little and quickly closed it. Clearing her throat, she greeted him.

“Morning.” Draco kissed her on the temple, before returning to the living room, and disappearing behind the corner. “I think I get it now.” Ginny laughed, wrapping an arm around Hermione’s shoulders and pointed to Teddy, who tried to escape from Harry again. His hair had become platinum blonde. She watched as Harry played with him and the baby’s hair changed slowly to black.

“Now you really get it.” Said Ginny.

“This is bad.” Said Hermione.

“What is bad,” interrupted them George, “is that I’ve seen him almost once a month at Diagon Alley and I’ve helped Harry babysit him, but I’ve never seen him go ginger. He sees Malfoy and immediately goes blond, the traitor.” George wiggled a rattle and Teddy swivelled around to seize it.

“I am his blood relative, Weasley.” Said Draco, appearing around the corner with two empty cups of tea. Andromeda appeared after him. Hemione had seen the woman before but was caught off guard by how much Draco resembled his aunt. She used to be certain he was a spitting image of his father until she had seen him standing next to his mother at the trials. He might have inherited his father’s platinum locks and pointed features, but the way he carried himself as an adult was entirely his mothers, and now she could see the same posture in Andromeda – Draco had the tall, slender built of all the Black sisters. Even Bellatrix, in all her madness, had carried an elegance, hardly masked by her unhinged nature.

“It’s wonderful to see you, dear.” Andromeda gave Hermione a warm smile, before turning around to kiss Teddy on the head. “Are you sure you can take him for the day? He can be quite the handful. I’m afraid I might have spoiled him more than I should have around the holidays.” She asked Harry.

“Yes, we’ll be fine. Molly has raised 7 children; she will make sure nothing happens to him.” Answered Harry. Andromeda gave him a warm smile and stood up.

“Thank you for the tea, Molly.” Said Andromeda, meeting Molly halfway between the kitchen and the living room, hugging her tightly. “And the opportunity to see my nephew.”

“Oh, it’s no bother. And don’t worry yourself, Teddy is in good hands here. You go and enjoy a day off.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Said Draco, helping Andromeda put on her coat.

“I’ve forgotten how overbearing your family can be.” She said sternly, buttoning her coat. “I’ll manage to find my way out.” She placed a hand on Draco’s cheek and gave him a gentle pat. “Goodbye.” She said and exited.

“No, Teddy, come back!” Teddy once again escaped from Harry’s grasp, this time heading for the door. Draco swooped him up, bringing him over his head and Teddy exclaimed excitedly. “I think he just likes to be tall.” Huffed Harry.

“Don’t fuss, Potter. Maybe you’ll grow, too.” Said Draco mockingly and Harry sent an obscene gesture his way. Draco settled Teddy on his hip and looked the kid in the eye with a serious expression. “What do you say, Edward? Have you inherited your father’s hight?” The kid raised his hands excitedly and squealed. Harry gawked at Draco. “I’m not dim, Potter. Also, the tapestry and family books actually do fill themselves.”

“Family books?” asked George. “Do you still keep those?”

“Of course, he does, George,” said Molly from the kitchen. “I’m sure it was a point of honour for Lucius and Narcissa to have them on display.”

“Do we have family books?” he asked, clearly confused. “I’ve never seen them. Do we have a tapestry?” Molly scoffed in response.

“No tapestry. But the books are somewhere in the attic. You can go find them if you want.”

“Honestly, woman,” said George standing up, “why haven’t you told us?” he disapparated.

“Yeah, mum,” chimed Ginny, “We barely know our family line beyond granddad.”

“Be grateful,” said Draco depositing Teddy in Molly’s outstretched arms. The toddler grasped the cookie in her hand and started munching on it. “I was forced to memorise every branch of the blasted Malfoy tree.”

“How far back?” asked Ginny. He shrugged taking a seat around the table.

“All the way back.” He said casually. George suddenly apparated in the room with a large box filled with thick books.

“Those should be it.” He said depositing the books down. He and Ginny started rummaging through them and pointing to various pictures and giggling. Hermione caught Draco’s eye. Inclining her head towards the back garden with a small smile she headed that way. She heard his footsteps following her. She stopped at the edge of the veranda, wrapping her arms around herself and hiding her hands in her sleeves.

“Are your bruises alright?” she asked when he stopped behind her, his hands coming to rest on her upper arms. He rubbed up and down her arms to warm her up and she revelled in this casual intimacy.

“They’re almost gone.” He said, casually. “Did you sleep well?” she hummed but didn’t turn around.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, his hands faltering a little.

“When do you have to go back?” she asked. He took a step forwards, pressing his chest to her back. He leaned down to place a kiss under her ear, and she tilted her head to give him better access. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her flush to him.

“Don’t tell me you’re clingy, Granger.” She scoffed.

“I’d like to point out who’s clinging on to whom.” She said and he tightened his grip, burying his face in her neck.

“Point taken.” He said, his voice reverberating on her skin, making her shiver. “Fair warning, I can be quite possessive, but I haven’t been called clingy yet.” She crossed her arms over his and leaned her head into his shoulder. “I told McGonagall I’d be back by the 3rd. I offered her to be back earlier, but she said she only needed one Head back by the 3rd when a lot of the students start arriving.”

“So you can stay until tomorrow night?” he hummed in agreement and she smiled. “Good.” She peeled her arms off his and quickly reached for the parapet, grabbing a handful of snow and slamming it on his bare neck. She used his momentary stupor to dash forward into the yard. “What is it, Malfoy? Afraid of a little snow?”

“Oh, now you’re in for it, Granger.” H He ran towards her and she turned around to escape, but before she could dart forward, he appeared in front of her in a flash of black smoke, a wicked grin on his face.

“That’s not fair.” She exclaimed, trying to take a step back, but faltered and almost lost her balance. His hand wrapped around both her wrists to steady her, and lifted her hands over her head, until her sweater rose, exposing her stomach.

“Haven’t you heard, Granger? Even reformed Death Eaters don’t play fair.” He reached to his neck with his free hand and wiped off the remaining snow. Taking a step closer to Hermione, so his chest was flush with hers, he leaned as if to kiss her, before clasping his cold, wet hand on her waist. Something between a gasp and a yelp escaped her as she tried to wiggle out of his grasp and away from his cold hand on her bare stomach. “Do you yield?”

“I yield,” she gasped, and he smirked down at her. His hand circled her, drawing a cold line around her, releasing her wrists, he buried his hand in her hair. He bent down and kissed her. She grasped the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer to her, before sliding her hands under it, to grasp the sweater at his back. He pulled away to gasp for air. “This feels almost too good to be true. Like it’s a dream.”

“I won’t wake you if you don’t wake me.” He said, before resuming the kiss.

“Hey, Malfoy,” Ron’s voice came from the door. Something between a groan and a growl came directly from Draco’s chest and Hermione felt vibrations in her mouth, sending warmth to the pit of her stomach. Draco’s head came up from Hermione’s with a searing expression, “Did you know we’re related?”

“Yes. And I’m beginning to regret every choice my ancestors made that lead to your existence in this very moment.” Hermione swatted his chest.

“Oof, that could have actually been hurtful, if I gave a rat’s arse.”

“You are a rat’s arse,” he muttered, and Hermione hit him again, harder. “Alright,” he told her, before looking up. “What can I do for you, Weasley?”

“Come inside, both of you. Mum thinks you’ll catch a cold. And George is dying to call you cousin at least once.”

“Behave,” warned Hermione, her face stern, as she turned around. He quickly caught up with her.

“You do know I’m only edging him on,” he said. “And Potter. They’re fun to mess with.”

“Am I fun to mess with?” she asked, turning to see the smirk on his face.

“Yes, but I can mess with you in different ways, now” he pinched her arse and she jumped slightly cheeks red. “See? Fun.” He rushed to open the door for her, letting her walk in first. A quick charm had evaporated all traces of snow, and Hermione shivered from the sudden temperature change. There was a rustle of wings behind them and Draco turned to see three owls flying towards the house. He made way for them. One of the birds flew further into the house, one landed in front of Ginny on the table and the third circled Draco’s head. He extended his arm and the bird perched herself on his forearm.

“She’s beautiful,” said Hermione, looking at the gorgeous Barn Owl. “Is she yours?” Draco reached to scratch the bird’s head carefully and untied a small box from its leg, shaking his head.

“It’s Pansy’s,” he said as the owl made a small sound and flew off. He turned the box over a few times before opening it. Hermione went on her tippy toes to see better and grabbed his arm for support.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s a wedding invitation.” He said with a chuckle. He took out a Slytherin ring and turned it around.

“What do you mean?” asked Ron, coming closer to look at the ring. “Did you get proposed to by mail?”

“No, I for one think relationship status should be discussed face-to-face.” Said Draco and Ron’s face flushed. “Pansy stole this from me and said that she’ll only return it if she ever got engaged to someone else.” He tossed the ring in the air and caught it in a closed fist.

“I think I know who she’s engaged to.” Harry emerged from the kitchen, Amanda in tow with a sleepy Teddy on her hip. He waved a letter in the air. “This is from Neville. It says he has breaking news that will shock us.”

“Is there anything that can still shock you?” asked Amanda, eyeing Draco.

“You’d be surprised, love,” said Ron. Teddy seemed to wake a bit and began wining extending his hands towards the living room. “Just put him down, nothing brings him more joy than escaping affection.” Draco chuckled, not needing to look at Ron, to know the ginger was staring at him from the corner of his eye.

“Is this normal?” asked Amanda, putting Teddy down. His hair had gone bright pink.

“I don’t know,” said Ron, Harry looked down at Teddy with an exasperated expression.

“His mum’s hair was often pink. Maybe he is reminded of her?”

“Isn’t he too young to remember her?” asked Amanda, as Teddy crawled forwards.

“I’d think it’s a feeling more than a memory. I sometimes would see something that would remind me of my parents, even if I didn’t really remember them.” Said Harry. Draco looked at Teddy and cocked his head to the side, as the kid crawled under the coffee table and curled into a ball there. “Teddy, no, get out of there.” Harry bent down to try and pull Teddy out, but the kid squirmed and cried until Harry released him.

Draco walked over to the table and tapped once with the ring on the surface. Teddy giggled and babbled something. Draco tapped twice, paused then tapped three times. Teddy giggled and kicked up at the table. He rolled sideways until he was out from under the table, looking up at Draco, shot him a smile and rolled back under. Draco repeated, knocking once, two times, three times. Another giggle and Teddy rolled out again. Draco scooped the kid and gave him the ring as a reward.

“What was that?” asked Harry.

“One is for stay, two is for quiet, three is for safe.” He looked form Teddy to Harry. “It’s something my mother taught me when I was a baby. It’s the first game I remember playing. My grandmother taught it to her when she was a child.” Teddy was carefully tracing the snake on the ring with all the concertation he had. He waved it in Draco’s face, before focusing on it again. “I guess the keyword is shock?” Teddy squirmed and Draco tapped his head like he did the table. Teddy looked at him confused.

“Why would she teach you that?” asked Amanda.

“It was in case Voldemort came for me, after Potter. I suppose Andromeda taught him to keep him safe.” Draco took his ring back and Teddy gave out a wail. “Edward,” his voice had an infliction that reminded Hermione of Lucius’ scalding voice. Teddy stopped wailing but still made small mewing sounds and sniffled. “When you’re thirteen I’ll buy you a house ring,” he looked at Harry and back at Teddy, “even if you end up in Gryffindor. And when you’re seventeen I’ll pass the Black ring to you.” He passed Teddy to Harry and the boy protested but settled in Harry’s arms. “But for this year, my present for you and I suppose for you, Potter is this.” A large black book appeared on the coffee table. With a wave of his hand, Draco opened the book to the last filled pages.

“Is that…?” asked Hermione, taking a close look at the book.

“The Black family book.” Answered Harry.

“The latest one.” Specified Draco, “It took some work, but I re-did Andromeda’s branch. As well as Sirius’ – that took more work, he must have really pissed off the head of the family.” Harry traced Sirius Black’s name and looked up, with teary eyes.

“How did you do that? I thought Harry was the owner of 12 Grimmauld Place.” Said Ron, coming forward to take a look at the book. Hermione could see that from Andromeda’s line stemmed Tonks, her marriage to Lupin, and Teddy.

“He is. But technically, I am the last Black heir.” Draco pointed to Narcissa’s image and his own under hers. “When Edward turns seventeen, I can make him the rightful heir.” Draco cleared his throat clearly uncomfortable with the touching atmosphere in the room. “One family legacy is more than enough for me. And until then Andromeda will need for nothing – she can have anything from the Black vaults she wants.”

“Malfoy, this is…” Harry choked up. “Thank you, Draco.” Draco looked down at his shoes and waved a hand dismissively. “There is nothing you can say that will make this seem like a selfish act. So don’t hurt yourself trying to shove your head up your arse.” Draco chuckled, relieved that Harry had made a joke.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t. Is this some elaborate way to butter me up? For Hermione’s sake.”

“No,” Draco was serious now. “This pureblood cult-mentality has caused enough damage. It’s time someone took responsibility for it. Several ancestors are rolling in their graves right now and quite a few portraits insult me every time I pass by them, back at home.” He chuckled and looked at Hermione. “I finally see what the pleasure of pissing off bigots is.”

“Just wait until you get to punch one in the face.” She smiled at him, “It’s brilliant.” Harry and Ginny busied themselves with showing Teddy the pictures of Lupin and Tonks. Hermione reached for Draco, but he just pulled her along towards the kitchen.

“I need you for moral support for one last uncharacteristic act of kindness.” He said and approached Molly and Arthur, who were sitting on the dining room table, drinking tea and talking quietly. “I have something for you.” This time he reached in the inside of his jacket and produced a book too large to fit in a normal pocket. It was the newest, still unpublished list of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. “Your name is in there. Undisputed.”

“Oh, son,” said Arthur a little confused, but Draco interrupted him.

“I’m aware you don’t concern yourself with that. But maybe you should. If there are more pureblood families with your values in this list, fewer children will grow up as I did.” He tapped the cover. “I know the Greengrass family are with me on this, and I’m trying to fix the Malfoy reputation. With your name there, supported by us, perhaps you can begin setting a new standard for pureblood values.” Arthur traced the book cover and Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever thought the same thing. If he had ever felt guilt over being on that list, simply because of what it was associated with.

“It’s a wonderful gift. And a truly remarkable idea, dear.” Said Molly, “Don’t you think, Arthur.”

“Yes, indeed. Thank you, really.” Arthur shook Draco’s hand. After an awkward smile, Hermione was entirely unfamiliar with in combination with Draco’s face, he pulled her up the stairs. Once they were in the room she was occupying, he closed the door behind him and leaned on it.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, a little amused at how uncomfortable he seemed.

“My palms are sweating. I feel faint.” She chuckled and pulled him to sit on the bed. She rubbed calming circles on his back.

“I have two things to say. Well, three,” he chuckled but didn’t interrupt her. “One, you lectured me about extension charms last night, when you use the same one.” He chuckled again and leaned back until he was lying across the bed. Hermione laid sideways next to him, propping her head on one elbow. Her hand drifter over his hair, brushing through it and revelling at the way he canted his head to follow her movement. “Two, those gifts were incredibly thoughtful and must have been very difficult to pull off.”

“Not really, just…” she shushed him, placing her hand over his mouth. “Did you just shush me?” he turned around astonished, voice muffled from Hermione’s hand.

“You showed you’re actually trying to change not just yourself but your whole social circle and this is difficult and incredibly brave.” He made a face and she removed her hand, resting it on his sternum, feeling it rise and fall of his. “I’d say almost Gryffindor-brave.” He groaned and she laughed. “I think I’m rubbing off on you.”

“I’ll show you a rubbing,” he growled, hooking one arm around Hermione’s knee pulling her on top of him until her knees were bracketing his hips, chest flush together. He kissed her deeply, and she moaned in response. There was a loud knock on the door and Draco shot to a sitting position so fast Hermione would have fallen back if it weren’t for his hands around her.

“Is Malfoy breaking out in hives from his acts of kindness?” came Ron’s voice from outside.

“He’s enjoying cockblocking me, isn’t he?” muttered Draco. Hermione tried to suppress a laugh. She turned towards the door but didn’t move from Draco’s lap.

“No, but your constant interruptions might do it.” She yelled at the door. Ron’s laugh sounded from outside.

“Lunch is in 15. And no dirty business.” Ron’s footsteps could be heard retreating down the stairs.

“What was the third thing?” Asked Draco, brushing Hermione’s hair behind one ear to draw her attention back to him.

“Hmm?”

“You said you had three things to tell me?”

“Oh, um…” Hermione racked her brain until she remembered. “What was your keyword? That your mother taught you.”

“Llama.” He said simply.

“Llama?”

“It had to be a word she wouldn’t say often, or I’d run off all the time.”Hermione wondered if baby Draco had been as happy as Teddy seemed to be. He placed one hand on the curve of her neck, gently tipping her head. “If I kiss you, Ronald will appear again, won’t he?” Hermione wrapped her hands around his neck and leaned into him.

“Let’s see.” She connected their lips. A second later there was a knock on the door. Hermione burst out laughing and Draco groaned falling back into the bed. Hermione planted her hands on his stomach to steady herself and felt his muscles flex under her hands.

“Oi, Cous’,” George’s voice came from outside the door. “What will it take for you to come downstairs with rolled-up sleeves. I want to see how long it takes Amanda to stop staring at that mark.”

“Make sure I never hear Ronald call me Cous’ or Cousin and you’ve got a deal.” Said Draco, and Hermione chuckled.

“You got it.” George knocked again and headed down.

“I couldn’t help but notice you said nothing about George or Ginny calling you Cousin.” Said Hermione. He shot her a crooked smile.

“I like them.” He said, propping himself on his elbows. His eyes raking over Hermione, straddling his lap “They don’t interrupt us that much.”

“Think about it this way,” she said, sliding off him and pulling him to his feet. “Once we’re in Hogwarts we won’t have to worry about interruptions.” It was a wonderful thought that helped Draco get though the rest of his time at the Burrow. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but the relaxed family atmosphere, so different from what he was used to, also made him feel like he belonged somewhere. Maybe the holidays won’t be as scary anymore.


End file.
